Above The Wreckage
by HappyValentina
Summary: EPILOGUE UP. Post-breakup. After making the biggest mistake of his life and ruining his relationship with Kurt, Blaine decided it was best to seek help. Maybe he can find out why he did it, and how to fix it. Klaine, therapy, and a lot of flashbacks. Rated T for some themes.
1. Chapter 1

_So, I haven't finished my other post-breakup story, and I moved on to this post-breakup story, because this is the actual post-breakup, whereas the other one was written based on the rumors we got even before the season started. I will finish the other one, though, because I was almost done anyway, and (in my own humble opinion) it's a nice alternative to what actually happened on that horrible, horrible real breakup episode. Ignorance WAS bliss._

_This one is based on some ideas I've heard going around on Tumblr and Twitter, born from the collective disbelief that Blaine in his right mind would never cheat on Kurt. But what if he wasn't in his right mind? We know Blaine, who had already been through a lot before we were introduced to him in season 2, probably has a lot of unresolved issues. Wouldn't it be nice if the show dealt with them once and for all? But alas! Since we know they won't, I will here._

_Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and Fox. I'm just using them for my own comfort, thank you._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Blaine tapped his foot on the floor nervously and played with the zipper of his bag. Anything to distract him from what he was about to do.

He didn't like hospitals or clinics or anything to do with doctors. He was aware that a therapist was not the same as most doctors, that there was nothing gory about a visit to a therapist, but somehow that made him even more nervous. After all, he had never been to therapy before. He had no idea what to expect.

He had to give it a shot, though. He knew it, the moment he stepped into Miss Pillsbury's office, looking for advice; he'd suddenly had a vivid flashback to the last time he had been there, with Kurt, doing "couple's therapy". Before he could actually say anything, he had just started crying, his body racked with sobs, until he was out of breath. Miss Pillsbury had hugged him and waited for him to calm down, and she had written him a note so he could go home early.

He figured she must have some idea of what was bothering him, because the next day, she called him into her office and handed him a card, without asking any questions or offering much information.

_Dr. Nina Franco, Psychotherapist, LGBT Youth Counseling._

It had only taken him a day to make the decision on his own to make an appointment. The least he could do is try.

Convincing his parents had taken a bit longer. He had been rather vague on the real reason why he wanted professional counseling, merely telling them that he was having trouble adjusting to McKinley now that Kurt and half of his friends had graduated. His mother, at least, had been quite receptive, and between the two, they managed to talk his father into it.

It's not that it was expensive; in fact, it was quite affordable. But Blaine knew his parents, especially his father, often felt that 'counseling' meant 'something wrong'. And they usually preferred to act like there was nothing wrong, even when there was.

Blaine himself was no stranger to that attitude.

"Dr. Franco is ready to see you, Blaine," a young, cute secretary said, poking her head into the waiting room where he sat. Blaine swallowed hard and nodded, before getting up and following her.

The secretary led him down a narrow hallway, past the offices of other kinds of counselors and therapists, to the penultimate door. She opened it and let him in.

Dr. Nina Franco was an petite young woman with soft brown curls and green eyes. She was as fair-skinned as Kurt, with freckles on her nose. Overall, she looked quite young, but an impressive set of diplomas hanging on the wall behind her desk spelled out 'well-learned'.

She stood up quickly from behind her desk, putting down a mug of tea, and held a hand toward him.

"Hello, Blaine. Welcome, I'm glad you decided to come."

"Um, nice to meet you," Blaine replied, shaking her hand, a little puzzled. "Why wouldn't I come? I made the appointment after all."

"Well, you sounded a little bit hesitant over the phone."

"Oh," he said, blushing slightly. "That was you? I thought I was speaking to a receptionist."

"She was sick last week, so I had to be my own receptionist. Have a seat," she was all smiles as she pointed Blaine to the chair across from her. He obeyed, glancing around nervously. The place was small but nice, and he already liked Dr. Franco, she seemed genuinely friendly, not just doctor-friendly. He just couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy.

"I'm just going to pull up your file here, and then we can get to the actual appointment," she said, tapping away on her keyboard. "Sorry, it's a bit slow. Coffee? Tea? Water?"

"Um, I'm fine, thanks."

She drank the rest of her tea and put the mug beside a picture frame on the table behind her. Blaine's eyes landed on the picture of a young man and the doctor herself, skiing on a snowy mountain.

"Is that you?"

"Yes, that's me and my fiancee," she said brightly. Blaine's eyes widened a little.

"Oh. I... I thought... never mind."

Dr. Franco smiled again. "You thought I was gay. That's perfectly okay. I'm an LGBT counselor, I guess most people would assume that I might be a gay as well."

"Um, yeah, sorry."

"I don't mind. Wouldn't be in this profession if I did," she chuckled slightly. "Come, let's sit over here."

She led him to the opposite corner of the room. It was nothing like he imagined a therapist's office to be. He had expected the cliched dark leather divan where the patient would lie and talk to the ceiling. Instead, it was more like a regular, homey living room, with end tables and lamps and books and a flower vase and framed pictures. There was a comfy-looking couch, an armchair, and a papasan chair.

"I've never been to therapy before," Blaine admitted sheepishly as he sat on one end of the couch. Dr. Franco picked the armchair.

"I know you may have some preconceptions, but I promise you, no one's judging you, this is a safe environment. You should also know that there's absolutely nothing wrong with seeking professional help. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

Blaine felt his mouth go dry, suddenly wishing he had accepted the glass of water. "Yeah, I just don't know how things usually go...?"

"Well, how I usually do it is, on the first session, I like for us to get to know each other. Okay?"

Blaine shrugged and smiled awkwardly. Dr. Franco nodded.

"I'll even start. As you already know, my name is Nina Franco. I'm 29 years old, I lived here all my life, except for the time I was enrolled in University of Cincinnati. I moved back here when I graduated, and then my boyfriend also graduated and got a job here. I set up an office here and started practice.

"I decided to become an LGBT counselor for my sister. Back when I started college, my sister, who was 15 at the time, came out to us. Our family and friends were fine with it, but every else wasn't quite. She had a lot of trouble at school; kids said and did horrible things to her. And, because she had always been very reserved, she just kept it all bottled up inside. Until one day, only a year later, she couldn't take it anymore, and she committed suicide."

Blaine's mouth fell open in disbelief, as Dr. Franco's story progressed. Her face also became more somber as she continued.

"It was very heavy, I couldn't understand why she would do something like that. I spoke to her all the time, and she never revealed how awful things were, how awful she felt. And I just kept thinking that I could've reached out to her more. That maybe then she would still be here."

She smiled again. "So I decided to focus on counseling for LGBT youth, so that other gay teens don't have to go through the same thing that my sister did. Everyone, at one point or another, needs someone to listen to them and support them."

Blaine nodded slowly, wondering how Dr. Franco could still smile like that, even after what she had just told him. He suddenly remembered the heartbreak he felt when he met Kurt, and this beautiful broken boy was crying quietly as he told him about being invisible in school.

"I'm very sorry about your sister," he said quietly, his voice thick.

"Thank you," she said. "Now, you tell me a little about yourself."

Blaine took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He slid his hands over his pants, nervously wiping off his sweaty palms. "Okay, well... my name is Blaine Anderson, I'm 18, I've lived here my whole life too. I'm in my senior year in high school. Um, I came out when I was fourteen. My parents weren't exactly thrilled. I mean, mostly my dad wasn't thrilled. But they've gotten used to it, I guess. Most of the time it feels like they just don't know how to act around me."

He paused, looking up at Dr. Franco to see if she wanted to interject with a question. She wasn't even taking notes; she just watched him as he talked, nodding her head minutely.

"Uh... I have one brother, Cooper, he's eight years older than me, and he's an actor. He lives in L.A., so I don't really see him that often. Um, I'm in Glee club. I just got elected Senior Class President. And I like sports, although I don't practice any right now. And... that's about it."

Dr. Franco nodded approvingly. "I was in Glee club too," she quipped. "For only a year, though, then on my senior year I joined the writer's club, and I got really into it, and I forgot all about Glee. I wish I hadn't, though. I felt it really helped me become more outgoing. Even though everyone regarded us as the losers in the school," she chuckled. "I didn't care. It was fun."

"Yes, it is," Blaine nodded. She leaned back on her chair.

"Okay, well, now that we've both introduced ourselves, I think we can ask each other questions, get to know each other a little bit better. You can start."

Blaine scratched his shoulder absently. "Oh, okay. Um... when are you getting married?"

Dr. Franco's eyes lit up. "Hopefully next year. We have yet to set an actual date. And between you and me, we're kind of masters of procrastination, so..." she trailed off, making a face. "My turn. What do you want to do when you graduate?"

"Well, I wanted to go to New York and get into performing arts. There's this school called NYADA, I don't know if you've heard of it, but it's the best school for anyone who dreams of being in Broadway."

He thought it was best to lie, since he suddenly had no idea what he wanted to do with his life.

"That's great. I hope you get in," Dr. Franco smiled, impressed.

Blaine looked around aimlessly. Dr. Franco leaned forward on her chair.

"So, how are you feeling so far? Feel comfortable? Are you okay with the dynamics?"

Blaine shrugged.

"We can always adjust how we approach things. Mostly, what I do with a lot of the people who come here is, I listen to them. Sometimes that's all anyone needs, someone to listen. Especially young people discovering their sexuality or dealing with abuse or neglect because of it. They want a safe environment to speak their minds." She clasped her hands on top of her lap. "So, what I thought we could do is meet twice a week, you pick the days, and we'll work out the hours as soon as I check my schedule. We can meet for an hour each day, and you talk about anything you want. You can tell me if there is something that has been concerning you, if you have a specific problem, and we can deal with it directly. But I usually like to know a lot more about the person, because sometimes we come across issues that the person didn't know they had, and we can work them out as we go. But you can tell me your life story, you can tell me about your dreams, your fears, your secrets, anything. And somewhere along the way, hopefully, you will feel that you have found what you came looking for."

Blaine nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the coffee table in front of him, lips pressed.

"What do you say?"

"Okay," he said in a low voice.

"So... is there a particular reason why you decided to seek counseling?"

Blaine felt the words, like a trigger, releasing a flood of all the things that he didn't want to think about. All the things that had kept him well awake the past week, since his visit to New York.

"I screwed everything up with the love of my life. And I hate myself for it."

He took a deep breath, but his breath hitched suddenly and he let out a sob. His hands automatically went up to cover his face as he started crying.

He felt a tap on his wrist. Dr. Franco was offering him a tissue box. He took one quickly and wiped his face and nose.

"I'm sorry," he blubbered.

"No, don't be. It's okay," she smiled sympathetically. "You know, the first step toward fixing a problem is admitting that there's something wrong." She winked reassuringly at him. "We're already making progress."

* * *

_Chapter one done. About four more to go._

_I hope everyone likes where this is going. _

_I haven't actually ever been to therapy, let alone LGBT counseling. But I have been cheated on. I think I'm just being a bit cathartic here. Bear with me._

_Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think._

_-Vale_


	2. Chapter 2

_So I've been a little distracted, but I hope I can get this story out of the way before the hiatus is over. Is it november yet?_

_Also, if the world ends before Klaine reconciles, I'm gonna... well, I don't know what I will do, but I'll figure out something, dead or not. I'll get my revenge. Oh yeah._

_Thanks for the reviews. Someone kinda begged me not to make Kurt feel guilty about the whole thing, and I can assure you (without spoiling anything) that it has never even crossed my mind. _

_**Littleyellowchrysanthemum**: excuse you, my sister is a psychologist, and she just turned 30. She's been a psychologist since she was 27, and a damn good one too. I did not make Dr. Nina Franco a Mary Sue, she's supposed to look and sound and act like my sister, even though my sister isn't an LGBT counselor, she's more of a Marriage and Family Therapy counselor. (Maybe I should've pointed that out on an author's note or something). The term psychotherapy is very broad, and the requirements for practicing psychotherapy are quite varied as well. The fact that my sister (and in this case, Dr. Nina Franco) are not 35-year-olds and did not spend almost two decades studying, doesn't make them any less qualified. _

_(Yes, I don't just pull all this information out of my own ass.)_

_But thank you for your review, and for considering that realism and fact-checking is important. I think so too._

_Disclaimer: Glee and all it's characters belong to RIB & Co. and FOX. _

_Author's note: Just letting you know, anything beneath the cut in italics is a flashback. Except when it's text format._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Chapter 2**

During the next session, Blaine gave Dr. Franco a pretty thorough account of his teenage life.

He talked at length about coming out, something he had barely done before; the only ones who had ever heard the full story were Wes and Kurt.

He talked about his parents' reaction, and how things seemed different since then; like they were still adjusting. Always adjusting. Never quite settling.

"I know they love me, they care about me. But my dad, he's never been very good at showing affection. We just don't talk all that much," Blaine said somberly. "In his defense, he tries, he really does. It's just not easy for him. I think he probably feels that everything would be easier if I were straight."

He sighed deeply. "My mom, on the other hand, has always been protective. Being the youngest of two, and by a wide margin, I was always her baby. When I came out, she started worrying about me. Like she's always bracing herself for the worst."

He talked about Cooper, and how Cooper graduated and moved to LA to study and pursue a career in acting, when Blaine was still in middle school. He explained that he came out to Cooper before he came out to his parents; he had called his brother one morning, when it was early in Lima and even earlier in LA, woke him up and told him he was scared.

"And what did Cooper say?"

"He said that I was going to be okay, but whatever happened, that I could always come live with him in LA," Blaine chuckled even though his voice thickened. "That hardly made me feel better, but I don't think I could've done it if he hadn't said that. If he hadn't been cool. Cooper usually doesn't take things very seriously, but at least he did that time, and it made me feel less scared."

He talked about starting high school, how it had been a tough transition to him, but it was nothing compared to what happened once word got around that he was out. He was already bullied for his height, for wearing bow ties, for his hair, for singing and being in the drama club; and then everything suddenly became ten times worse.

Suddenly he was afraid to go to school. He would often fake being ill so he could skip, which his mother condoned. His father was definitively not happy about it.

"He came down to the school a couple of times and talked to the principal. Basically they lied to our faces about keeping an eye out for me. And when my dad wasn't around, they basically told me that I should just deal with it. They just didn't care."

Then he talked about the Sadie Hawkins dance. How he and his friend braved the odds and went together, and how they ended up in the hospital, and it was weeks before they were both well enough to go back to school.

"Except he didn't. He never came back. He transferred to another school immediately. And I haven't seen him or talked to him since. I've considered friending him on Facebook, but I just can't bring myself to it." Blaine shrugged. "Neither has he."

"Did you ever denounce your attackers?" Dr. Franco asked.

Blaine shook his head. "My friend didn't want to have anything to do with it. It would've been just my word against the three jocks."

He sighed again. "So one day my mom and dad sat me down to talk, and they handed me some pamphlets, and told me about Dalton Academy."

* * *

"_Hey. Blaine, right?"_

_Blaine glanced around and saw Wes Hughes jogging to catch up with him as he walked to English Lit._

"_Um, hi," he replied, once Wes was walking beside him. _

"_Hi, we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Wes," the junior said, offering his hand. Blaine took it. _

"_Uh, yeah, nice to meet you."_

"_How's everything? I know you're new to Dalton. And you transferred due to special circumstances?"_

_Blaine flushed with embarrassment. He should've known that people would talk about it, even if he didn't know anyone yet. "Yeah, I, uh, I'm having a freshman do-over," he said, trying to sound like it wasn't really a big deal._

_But it was. He still remembered the meeting with Dalton's headmaster and student counselor, and how frustrated his father had been when they informed them that, due to Blaine's attendance record (both because he skipped on purpose, and the two months he was between the hospital and physical therapy), and the fact that his grades had started to decline halfway through the year, the best thing was for him to repeat his freshman year. And there was nothing that they could do to convince them of otherwise. Dalton Academy didn't take student performance lightly. _

_Wes winced. "That's too bad. But hey, graduating from Dalton, if you have a good GPA, you're basically guaranteed eligibility for most Ivy League universities."_

"_Yeah, I know," Blaine said with a small smile, even though going to an Ivy League school had never really been on his mind. It might be on his father's, but fortunately Blaine wouldn't have to think about that; not for another couple of years, at least. _

"_In any case, I just wanted to introduce myself properly," Wes continued. "And perhaps... I know you're new and all, and you're still adjusting, and I don't know if you've already made your picks for any of the clubs, but... I'd like to make you an offer."_

_Blaine stopped walking to listen properly. He couldn't help having a bad feeling about this. He'd never been to a private school before, and for some reason all he could think about was hazing rituals and traditional British 'fagging'. _

"_Okay, I don't mean to freak you out or anything, but" Wes started carefully. "I heard you singing in the shower the other day."_

_Blaine didn't know what to make of that. Of all the things, he hadn't expected that. "Okay...?"_

"_I had gone back because I left my phone in my gym locker, and I heard you. At first it freaked me out, I thought the locker room was empty," Wes chuckled. Blaine scratched the back of his head nervously._

"_Yeah, I usually wait for everyone to leave before I shower. Old habit."_

"_I see." Wes nodded in understanding, becoming serious. "Just to reassure you, you have nothing to worry about here, okay? No one's going to do be mean. It's the rule, and everyone follows it without question. That's another plus of this school."_

_Blaine managed to smile a little. "I know. I guess I just have to get used to it."_

_Wes smiled back before continuing. "Anyway, I heard you sing, and I thought you were good. I mean, really good. I didn't want to scare you, so I didn't say anything to you then, but I had a talk with the rest of the council, and we agreed on it. So I wanted to see if you'd like to try out for the Warblers."_

"_The Warblers?" Blaine's eyebrows shot up._

"_You know, the glee club?"_

"_I know who you guys are," Blaine smiled. "Back at my old school, we had no glee club. Apparently it was outstandingly bad, and they withdrew all the funding for it a couple of years ago. So all I know about glee clubs here is Carmel High's Vocal Adrenaline, and the Warblers."_

"_The Warblers are not just any glee club," Wes explained. "Unlike most clubs, we sing a capella. And it's one of the coolest clubs in Dalton. If not the coolest."_

_Blaine looked even more surprise. Wes nodded and smiled wryly. "We get the rock star treatment. Because we're good. Now, we haven't had a great lead singer since Tyler Ridgewood graduated two years ago. So we're looking for our new star. And I was wondering if maybe you'd want to see if you can be that star."_

"_Me? Really?" Blaine shook his head in disbelief. _

"_Why not? I heard you sing, and I think you've got what it takes. You have all this talent and I think you don't even have a clue. You have to do it."_

_Blaine wouldn't stop shaking his head. "No, I don't think so."_

"_Do you suffer from stage fright or something?"_

"_Um, not really."_

_Wes sighed, and placed a reassuring hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Look, I know it's tough being the new kid, and I know you've been through some stuff. But that's all in the past. Here you have people who don't care where you come from, who you like, or any of that stuff. In Dalton, everyone gets treated equal. Well," Wes grinned like a cheshire cat, "unless you become the new star of the Warblers; then you get treated like a local god."_

_Blaine laughed, both nervously and amusedly. Who would've thought a glee club could be cool? _

"_Alright, you got me."_

"_Try outs are this wednesday at three. At least give it a go. What have you got to lose?" Wes said with a wink, before sprinting off down the hallway to his next class._

* * *

"I auditioned and got the lead in many Warbler performances. We made it to Sectionals that year, though not Regionals."

Dr. Franco nodded, smiling slightly. "So things started looking up for you at that moment."

Blaine nodded. "I know my dad wasn't entirely happy that I was in a club for singing, but he said that at least I was safe."

"Did you feel safe?"

"Yes."

"Did you feel Dalton was the right decision, then?"

Blaine shrugged. "I guess. I mean, I felt completely different, I felt like I could fit in. And I really tried to put everything that had happened behind me. But I couldn't help but think, every now and then, that the way things were in that school, with those people, was unlike anything that goes on in the real world." He sighed. "While being safe was comforting, it was also like living in an illusion."

"So you don't think it was the right decision?"

"After a year of being there, I think I completely stopped thinking about that." His gaze fell to his hands. "Until I met Kurt."

* * *

"_Feeling better?" Blaine asked, glancing at the boy sitting across from him on a booth at Breadstix._

_Kurt Hummel looked up from his salad and forced a smile. "A little."_

"_Cheer up. I think that could've gone a lot worse."_

"_It could have also gone a little better," Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry you got pushed around."_

"_It's okay," Blaine said, even though in the very back of his mind he'd had horrible flashbacks of his days at his former high school. But he wasn't about to mention that. "I came to help you, and you're the one who ended up helping me."_

_Kurt laughed a small, mirthless laugh. "You also didn't have to buy me lunch."_

"_Well, I thought it would be nice," Blaine replied, hoping that he didn't sound nervous at all. This had only been the second time they had met, and Blaine was already buying him lunch. Blaine had never treated any boy to lunch, let alone a boy with whom he had trouble making eye-contact. _

_Kurt picked absently at his salad, and Blaine watched him in silence. He just really wanted to say something to make Kurt feel better. _

"_I'm really sorry that he stole your first kiss."_

_Kurt's cheeks reddened slightly. Blaine suddenly wanted to kick himself. _

"_Nothing I can do about that now, is there?" Kurt said mournfully, and shrugged it off like it was something he would just have to get over. Blaine watched Kurt's face, the bright blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. _

"_What am I gonna do, Blaine?" the boy asked in a very small voice. _

_Blaine almost blurted out 'come to Dalton', and he would've tried to pass it as a joke, but it wasn't funny. Not right now. He knew that Kurt liked the idea of Dalton. But it wasn't an affordable option._

"_Well, I'll tell you what you can do, and that is 'not listen to Blaine anymore'," he replied instead, laughing awkwardly. "I wish I hadn't suggested that you confront him. Maybe none of this would've happened."_

_Kurt shook his head. "No, you know what? I think it would've happened anyway. Sooner or later. Or it would've just gotten worse. But now I have this secret hanging over his head. I don't like that, but at least he knows that he needs to be careful."_

_He put his fork down and bit his lip. "The thing is, I don't really want him to be careful. I just want him to leave me alone. I don't care if he comes out or not. I just-"_

"_I know," Blaine interrupted him, because Kurt really looked like he would start crying again, and it kinda broke his heart. Kurt exhaled through his nose._

"_Thanks for trying to help me."_

_Blaine winked. "No problem."_

_The nice blonde waitress came by to pick up their plates, smiling sweetly as they said thanks. Blaine felt a surge of affection for her, because, while a couple of patrons had glanced at them resentfully (and made no secret of their disdain), she didn't seem to care that there were two boys sitting across from each other on the booth, and she did these little things for them, like bring Kurt extra napkins, and give them free refills on their diet Cokes, and she kept calling them 'hon'. And when Blaine picked up the tab, dismissing any protest from Kurt, she smiled at him like she knew. _

_So Blaine couldn't help but give her a hefty tip; she had kind of restored his faith in humanity, after all. _

"_Hey," he said, suddenly feeling rather bold and daring, as he and Kurt headed out, "would you like to hang out again some other time?"_

_The smile that crossed Kurt's face was worth everything that had happened that day._

"_Sure."_

* * *

"_Where've you been? David said you skipped Chemistry," Wes said, as soon as he saw Blaine come into the common room. It was unusually empty, and Wes seemed happy enough to basically have it all to himself, judging from all the open books and the fact that he was still typing away on his laptop, even though he was now looking at Blaine fixedly. _

_Blaine shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned at his friend._

"_I had stuff to do. Remember Kurt?" he answered, turning a bit red. _

_Wes smiled slyly. "Uh-huuuuuuh...?" he said in a sing-song voice._

"_Well, he called me earlier, because he was having some trouble... with a bully."_

_Wes's smile disappeared. "Uh-huh." Blaine cleared his throat nervously._

"_And... I went down to his school to help him confront him."_

_Wes's eyes widened in horror. "What? Are you insane?"_

_Blaine rolled his eyes. "What did you expect? I couldn't let him deal with that guy by himself."_

"_Blaine, I expect you to have some common sense. You went and confronted a guy whom you know to be violent. You could've gotten hurt," Wes said, getting up from his chair, as if to emphasize his alarm._

_Blaine kept mum about the fact that he almost did, while Wes seemed to be trying to be calm._

"_Why didn't he just tell someone? A teacher. The principal. Anyone. You don't confront him."_

_Blaine shook his head. "You don't understand. It's not that simple."_

"_Blaine, you can't put yourself at risk like that. I know you like Kurt, but-"_

_There was an involuntary snort and an unwelcome flash of heat up Blaine's neck. "What? No, no, we're just friends. I was helping out a friend."_

_Wes rubbed his forehead in frustration._

"_Look, nothing happened," Blaine continued. "At least, I don't think I made it worse. Hopefully." _

_Wes still didn't say anything, just shook his head at his friend. _

"_Come on, Wes, I felt like it was the right thing to do. I know I transferred here precisely to get away from bullies, but I've never felt good about it. I just felt like I was running away, giving up. And for once I just wanted to stand up for myself, or for someone else."_

_Wes raised an eyebrow questioningly at his friend. "Okay... so this was more about battling your past demons, rather than doing something brave and chivalrous for a boy whom you happened to serenade the first time you met?"_

_Blaine glared at him and regretted sharing anything with him. _

"_Shut up," he muttered, while Wes grinned._

"_I'm just looking out for you, man," he said sympathetically. Blaine sighed._

"_Well, maybe it's time I look out for someone, too," he said, giving him a half smile before heading to his room._

* * *

Blaine told Dr. Franco about Kurt transferring soon afterwards. He told her about David Karofsky's actions, and his subsequent expulsion from McKinley. And how his immediate return prompted Kurt's parents to forgo their honeymoon in order to pay for Kurt's tuition at Dalton.

He told her about being there for Kurt as he auditioned for the Warblers, adjusting to the school, feeling a little out of sorts.

"I suddenly felt really bummed out that I had had to repeat my freshman year, because if I hadn't, we would've been in the same classes. After all, I was the only one he knew there."

"But he was okay?"

"Yeah, sure. It's just hard, you know? Being away from his friends, being away from home. And it was hard for him to be part of a glee club that was so different from his old one. Also, the workload. You know, private school and all."

Dr. Franco nodded. "How about you? How did you feel?"

Blaine laughed a little to himself. "I kinda had to hide the fact that I was really happy he had transferred. Obviously not the circumstances, but all that traveling between Dalton and Lima was starting to take a tax on my gas money and maybe even my school performance."

"I was just really excited to have a friend who was gay. Someone whom I liked a lot who also knew what it was like, who had gone through some of the same things as I had. And Kurt probably felt the same way too."

"Did you try to be more than just friends with him? Or think that he might?" Dr. Franco asked. Blaine took a deep breath.

"There was an instant in which I did... But I kept telling myself that it would just be selfish, because he was going through a tough time. He didn't need a boyfriend, or even a boy mooning over him. He needed a friend." He shrugged. "And so that's what I tried to be."

"What about you? Do you think you wanted a boyfriend or a friend?"

Blaine shrugged. "I think I just really needed a friend, too."

"That's what you _needed_. But what did you _want_?"

Blaine had never thought about that.

* * *

The hour was up. The receptionist let Dr. Franco know that her next appointment was waiting outside. Dr. Franco sat there for a moment, watching Blaine's tension finish unwinding.

"For a first official session, I think that went very well," she finally said. "I'm glad that you've found yourself comfortable and safe enough to talk about anything that's on your mind."

Blaine nodded.

"If you ever feel like you need more time in your sessions, we can always adjust your schedule. Or if you need to call me at any time, you can definitively do that too. I know you must have questions."

Blaine didn't say anything or move. He seemed suddenly transfixed by the floral arrangement on the coffee table. Dr. Franco observed him for a moment and then cleared her throat.

"I have an exercise we can try out," she started; "we can do at the end of each session. Okay?"

Blaine nodded again.

"While you can ask me as many questions as you like, at any time, I would like for you to ask me _one_ question before you go. And I want you to think about that question really well. Because I want you to ask me what you _really_ want to know."

Blaine slowly nodded again. Dr. Franco watched him closely.

"What do you really want to know right now, Blaine?"

Blaine took a shuddering breath and swallowed a lump in his throat, like he had finally gathered the courage to ask something.

"Am I depressed?"

Dr. Franco seemed unfazed, like she already knew he would ask that.

"Do you think you're depressed? Or have you ever felt depressed?" she asked back. Blaine nodded slowly.

"I think so. I just feel... like I don't have anyone to talk to. I have friends, but I just don't feel all that comfortable sharing this with them. My best friend was always Kurt. And he won't answer my calls."

Dr. Franco scooted closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. Blaine didn't look up, studying his hands instead.

"I have to be honest with you; it sounds like you've been depressed for a while. And that's perfectly normal."

Her words were like a trigger, and suddenly Blaine was crying silently, tears spilling like a broken dam. Dr. Franco clasped one of his hands as he struggled to contain his sobs.

"A lot of people, even young people, go through depression. It's a human emotion. There's nothing wrong with it. It doesn't make you a bad person, it doesn't mean that there's no solution to it."

Blaine sniffed loudly, and Dr. Franco handed him the box of tissues.

"You're not clinically depressed; you don't have a family history of it, and your symptoms don't appear to be severe," she reassured him. "You're just in despair. You've been through some very hard situations; it's only natural. And you sough help, because you want to get better. That's good."

Blaine wiped his eyes and nose with a tissue and tried to calm down.

"You know, I was in a deep state of depression when my sister died," Dr. Franco confided. Blaine lifted her eyes toward her. "What you're going through is like a mourning process. You lost someone very important to you."

"I just... don't know where to go from here," he said hoarsely.

"Well, that's what we're going to figure out together," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

He took a long, deep breath and wiped his eyes again. Dr. Franco poured him a glass of water.

"If it would make you feel better, I can refer you to a psychiatrist, a good one that I often work with. He can give you a full evaluation; if he finds that you might benefit from a medical prescription, then he can provide it, and monitor your progress. But of course, medication is only part of a treatment. I'd still like it if you continued to meet with me."

Blaine nodded, and Dr. Franco walked over to her desk briefly, retrieving a card from a drawer. She handed it to him, and he suddenly looked apprehensive.

"Does it feel weird?" he muttered.

"The medication? It shouldn't. It's actually supposed to make you feel better, just like any other medication," Dr. Franco replied. "Look, I know it's scary. I was scared too. I was on anti-depressants for a while after my sister's death. And at first I was terrified of taking them. I feared that I would become this detached robot or something. But the truth is, it helped a lot. At a time when I felt like nothing made sense anymore, that there was no point to anything, I started to feel better. I was able to continue with my studies, finish school and set up my practice, and I got to do it for my sister."

Blaine still looked hesitant, but he finally took the card from her.

"Just think about it," she said as he stood up to leave. "But whatever you choose, I promise that here, we're going to work toward you getting better. You're going to be okay."

* * *

Kurt jumped slightly as an incoming message beep echoed through the staircase up to his apartment. He glanced down at his phone once he was through the door and he had put his bag and all his stuff down.

_Hey, Kurt. How's New York?_

It was a text from Sam.

He frowned. Sam didn't exactly text him often.

_Hey, Sam. Um... good?_

_Tina and Artie say hi. Brittany says something about a unicorn poster. She says she hugs it every night and she really misses you._

_That's nice._

Kurt retrieved a diet Coke from the fridge and waited for Sam to reply.

_Finn and I kinda decided that, since he's back, I'm taking your room for a while. Just letting you know._

_Oh really?_

_I promise to be really careful. I'll put it back the way it was when you come for Christmas._

_Sure. Good. Thanks._

_I meant to tell you earlier, but Finn's been in a bad mood since Rachel came to visit, so I thought it best to move out of his room quickly._

_It's okay, Sam._

_Hey, is everything okay between you and Blaine?_

Kurt sighed. He really, really didn't want to talk about it.

_Why do you ask? _he purposely avoided answering the question by asking another question.

_Do you happen to know if he's going to therapy or something?_

Kurt nearly dropped the glass in his hand.

_What?_ He typed back. It was a couple of minutes before Sam replied again. Kurt stared at the phone the entire time, restless.

_Crap, were you not supposed to know?_

_Did he tell you he's going to therapy?_

_Actually we haven't talked at all in, like, a week. He hasn't been talking much to any of us lately. He's been a little strange. _

A part of Kurt didn't think he should want to know, but most of his brain was screaming for him to get Sam to tell him everything.

_Strange how?_

_Just sort of detached._

Kurt didn't know what to make of that. Blaine had never been too close to anyone in New Directions. But he had never been detached. He didn't know what to say next, but Sam continued anyway.

_I thought he was just still having a hard time, with you not being here. But he looks really down lately. And he hasn't mentioned anything to any of us._

_Why do you think he might be going to therapy?_

_Tina says she saw him coming out of a clinic. Her dentist is on the same level as a psychology clinic._

Kurt read over the text. He held on to the edge of the table, feeling he might fall over.

_I've got to go._

_Seriously, is everything okay between you two?_

_It was nice talking to you, Sam._

_Wait, Kurt._

_Kurt._

_I'm sorry if I screwed up or something._

Kurt bit his lip before sending one last message.

_You didn't, Sam. Don't worry. It was already screwed up._

Kurt put his phone down and ignored the beep of two more messages from Sam. He sat on the nearest stool and stayed there for a while, mulling things over. The Coke was left forgotten on the kitchen counter, drops of condensation gathering slowly.

* * *

Rachel arrived a couple of hours later, exhausted and hungry. She just wanted to eat something and take a long hot shower. She forgot all about that, though, when she saw Kurt sprawled on the couch, eating the last of the Rocky Road watching something on his laptop, with a box of tissues at the ready.

"Kurt, honey, you're not watching sad movies, are you?"

"No, I'm watching 'When Harry Met Sally'."

Rachel looked at him and winced. "Honey, don't do this to yourself."

"It's not a sad movie. It's a romantic comedy. It's supposed to be happy. It has a happy ending and all. You know, it makes so much sense and it's so true. _'When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible'_. That's true. It's not what everyone gets, but it's still true."

"Kurt, please," Rachel said, rubbing his back. "This isn't good for you."

"It's just a movie, Rachel."

"No, this is torture with a large side of ice cream," she said, snatching the spoon and ice cream container from him. "You'll give yourself a stomachache."

"I've actually been having a sort of ache, and I'm just trying to get rid of it," he said stoically.

Rachel slid onto the space beside him. "What happened?"

Kurt paused the film and put his laptop on the table in front of him. Rachel followed him with her eyes as stood up and paced a little. She had a feeling he did that for a while before she got home.

Kurt stopped and took a deep breath. "Apparently Blaine's been going to therapy."

Rachel's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "Really? Since when?"

"I have no idea."

"How did you find out?"

"Sam texted me," he said, frowning and shaking his head slowly. "He said it like he has no idea that Blaine and I are not... Does he not know? Doesn't anyone know?"

Rachel looked at him blankly. "I have no idea."

Kurt started pacing again. "He hasn't told anyone. Sam said he hasn't talked to anyone in over a week. That's just... I don't know."

Rachel looked alarmed. "Do you think he's going through something?"

"I don't know."

"You don't think he tried to... do something to... himself?"

Kurt started crying as he continued to pace, but he immediately controlled himself.

"I don't know," he said again.

"Kurt," Rachel said, leaping from her seat and pulling him into a hug. "Honey, please don't cry. Don't cry anymore. I'm sure he's fine," she said, running a soothing hand over his back.

"I just don't want to care anymore," he mumbled into her shoulder. Rachel made a noise like a chuckle.

"That's a tall order," she said, eliciting a loud sniff from her friend. "It seems he's been having a rougher time than we thought. It's obviously been hard for both of you."

"I keep telling myself that I'm okay. I need to feel okay."

"No, Kurt, you're not okay yet. You're better, but you're not okay. It's only been a week. Give yourself some time. You're going through a lot, and I'm aware of it. I've heard you cry yourself to sleep every night. I understand that you're hurt. I've been hurting too. But don't pretend that you're okay. Talk to me, let's sit down and talk. I want to help you however I can."

"Thanks, but maybe some other time," Kurt said simply, walking back to the couch. He dropped down and picked up the laptop and switched it off.

"Look, maybe Sam got it wrong. Maybe Blaine's not going to therapy after all, and Sam just assumed," Rachel offered. "You know how he is, maybe he got confused."

Kurt shook his head. "Actually it was Tina. And that hardly makes me feel any better," he replied.

"Well, I guess if he has a problem, it's a good thing that he's seeking help, right?"

"I don't know. I don't know..." Kurt said, worrying his lip and wringing his hands. Rachel stared at him for a moment, gauging his behavior.

"You're not... blaming yourself for it, are you?"

Kurt turned to her rapidly.

"No," he said firmly, his expression turning angry. "_He's_ the one who convinced me to come to New York. I was going to wait in Lima until we could come together, and _he_ told me to come." He paused, breathing a little harder. "And then he goes and cheats on me? That is all his fault."

Rachel nodded, letting out a slow stream of air in relief. The past week had been hard enough, and even if she knew it was normal, she couldn't help but be awfully worried about him. She knew very well what heartbreak was like, but she would have bet that Kurt, of all people, wouldn't have to go through it. Because Blaine had been the last person she would've imagined could do something like this.

She wasn't terribly worried about Blaine, but she still felt that his behavior was weird and a little concerning. So, if Sam was right, everything made more sense now.

Kurt suddenly let out a strangled sob, covering his face with his hands. Rachel instinctively reached out to stroke his hair.

"I still can't believe he did that," he blubbered into his palms. "Why would he do that?"

"I'm so sorry, honey," Rachel said, petting him. Kurt breathed deeply and wiped his cheeks.

"Me too. I'm sorry I fooled myself into thinking it could be like a movie."

"Hey, I thought you said that whole movie happy ending thing was true."

Kurt shook his head. "I also said that it doesn't happen to everyone."

"It will happen to you," she said, trying to be as comforting and certain as she could. "You deserve it."

* * *

Kurt got ready for bed. It was still early, but he was too tired and stressed to do anything else.

He was still so angry and hurt. And it took all his energy to function normally on a daily basis, to get through the day without thinking about Blaine, stupid _stupid_ Blaine. And now this...

Ugh, he'd be like a zombie by the end of the week.

Getting over Blaine was proving to be one of the most difficult things he'd ever attempt in his life.

He plugged his phone to the charger and turned off the light.

A couple of minutes later, he groped around in the darkness for the phone and scrolled through his contacts. He landed on Blaine's name, and his finger hovered over the 'call' button for a second.

Maybe that wasn't a good idea.

Maybe he should think about this a little longer.

He wouldn't even know what to say, anyway. Or if he'd even get the answer he was looking for. Or any answer at all.

He didn't know if he was even prepared to hear Blaine's voice again.

He just didn't know what was left and right anymore.

So he put the phone down and laid down, trying to relax, trying to block out all thoughts. That proved impossible again, as it had all week. He went over everything that had happened that night, every sentence, every gesture, and that damned song, just like every night, and eventually cried himself to sleep once more.

* * *

_Just to clarify some things:_

_The nice blonde waitress is the same one from the show, the one that is always nice (or at least I remember her being nice all the time). I'm especially fond of her in 'Never been kissed' and 'Heart'._

_Sam is supposed to still be staying in the Hummel-Hudson household. I know it might seem weird, but I just can't bear to see him go. It's just such a nice setup._

_Psychologists, from what my sister tells me, rarely provide medical prescriptions, because they're not required to study pharmacology. Psychiatrists do, though. _

_I really, really wish we could have some more background on Blaine. But it's Glee..._

_Thanks for reading._

_-Vale._


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello, it's me again. I'm terribly sorry for the delay on a new chapter. I've been horribly sick (like, hospitalized-level of sick), and I didn't have much time or energy to get any writing done. So glad to be back home and feeling a lot better, and being in the right mind to write. I probably won't be done before this thursday, when the show comes back, but oh well... (I blame my immune system and the restaurant that gave me the most formidable food poisoning case of my life.)_

_The latest spoilers have made me so happy. I have a renewed strength to continue writing this story. But it's sketched out already, so I won't be adjusting to what is supposed to happen in the next episodes. But I think you will still enjoy it._

_Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and FOX. Just having some good ol' cathartic fun with the characters for a while._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Blaine sat in the soberly-decorated waiting room outside the office of Dr. Charles Gilbert, psychiatrist. He flipped through a magazine without really perusing it, leg bobbing up and down restlessly.

"Sweetheart, calm down. It's going to be alright."

Blaine glanced at his mother as she offered a smile. It did little to appease his nerves, but he would've probably felt ten times worse if she hadn't been there.

After having a lengthy conversation with both his parents, his father reluctantly agreed that it was best if Blaine was evaluated by a psychiatrist. And his mother offered adamantly to accompany Blaine.

So on the day of the appointment, Blaine hoped, for his own sake, and the sake of his parents, that the evaluation would be positive.

It was long and tortuous, but not unbearable. Dr. Gilbert, a man in his late forties with a deep voice and grey hair, like a middle-aged James Earl Jones, was polite and precise. He seemed to know a lot about Blaine already, from the information Dr. Franco had sent him, so he was concise in his questioning. And once again, to Blaine's relief, there was no stiff recliner involved.

There was an extensive questionnaire, a revision of Blaine's medical history, all his school records, and a brief interview with his mother. The doctor asked if Blaine had trouble sleeping, loss of appetite, tiredness, lack of enthusiasm. He ordered some blood tests, just to be on the safe side, and worked out another appointment to go over the test results.

Dr. Gilbert looked across his desk at Blaine, holding the folder with all of Blaine's information.

"Dr. Franco tells me that you're going through a breakup?"

Blaine nodded, eyes downcast.

"Yes, I... my boyfriend broke up with me," he replied glumly.

"Because you say you cheated on him."

"Yes."

"And you think you might be depressed."

"Yes."

"Do you think you have depression since before the breakup or as a result of the breakup?"

"I... honestly don't know," Blaine shrugged. "Probably before."

"And do you think that's why you cheated? Because you were depressed?"

"Yes."

Dr. Gilbert flipped to another page in the file. "Your boyfriend, Kurt, moved to New York, correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you may have started feeling depressed once he left? Or more depressed?"

"Maybe."

"Even after you told him you would be alright with him leaving?"

"Yes."

"And you said he is your first boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Well," Dr. Gilbert nodded slowly, "that seems understandable."

His eyes skimmed the pages of his file one more time, before he intertwined his fingers on top of his desk and watched Blaine over the rims of his glasses.

"As Dr. Franco already told you, you are not clinically depressed," he said. "Major depression shows more severe symptoms, and usually a family history. You're doing well in school, you say you were elected senior class president?"

"Yes," Blaine replied, wishing he could display a little bit of pride.

"And you're a member of almost every club, except sports teams."

"Yes."

Dr. Gilbert raised his eyebrows momentarily. "You could be overexerting yourself. Dr. Franco made a note here that you did all this to distract yourself from Kurt's absence. Although it's not a bad idea, she and I agree that you should take it down a notch, especially now that you're going through treatment."

Blaine nodded. "I know. I actually already quit half of them."

"Good," Dr. Gilbert said. "Just stick with the ones that you really enjoy, the ones that fulfill you."

Blaine thought about saying that the one that used to fulfill him the most was glee club, before Kurt graduated, and that it was now the place where he was constantly reminded of Kurt's absence. He thought he'd rather mention it to Dr. Franco later.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

In the end, Dr. Gilbert explained that they would have to wait for the blood tests results to come back so he could decide if a medication prescription was necessary; in the meantime, he suggested Blaine could take valerian root, a herbal supplement to help him sleep and stabilize anxiety and stress. He also recommended that Blaine try some alternate therapies, such as meditation and exercise.

"Sometimes physical therapy can be even more beneficial for the body and the mind than a bottle with a prescription."

"Do you meditate?" Blaine asked curiously.

Dr. Gilbert chuckled. "I try. I haven't quite gotten the hang of it. But my wife's been doing it for years, and she's always going on and on about how great it is, how it helps her unwind at the end of the day, after a long day of dealing with our kids and work and, well, me," he said with a smile. "It's worth a try. You can ask Dr. Franco about alternate therapies, she knows more on that subject than me."

He handed Blaine the blood test order, some information sheets on depression, and arranged for an appointment the following week. He led Blaine out and shook his and his mother's hands.

"Take it easy, Blaine," he said politely.

* * *

Blaine got up really early the next day to go to the lab and get blood drawn. He hated needles with a passion, but something about his eagerness to find a solution to this bleakness he was going through, made him momentarily forget about his phobia.

His mother waited for him, to drive him to school; she bought him some breakfast, and he ate it on the way, feeling gradually better. There was something oddly comforting about being driven to school by his mother. He felt like a child again.

As always, he avoided everyone. And everyone seemed to avoid him. Either they knew to steer clear of him, or no one really cared enough to ask him what was wrong. However, he did catch Sam and Tina looking at him a couple of times, but they never said anything.

The day wore on painfully slow. More than ever, he didn't want to go to Glee club. He decided to go to the nurse's office and tell them he had migraine; since there was only one period left for the day, the nurse called his mom to pick him up earlier.

He caught his mother's worried look as he climbed onto the passenger seat, before driving off.

"I got you the valerian root," she said briefly, handing him a small bag from the drugstore. "Maybe you'd like to give it a try."

Blaine pulled out the bottle of 100 capsules and stared at the drawing of a flower under the logo.

_Valerian Root has a guaranteed natural potency of .1% Valerenic acids. Valerian has a relaxing effect on the nervous system in that it promotes relaxation in persons leading a hectic lifestyle and helps support restful sleep... _

Except Blaine didn't really lead a hectic lifestyle. He just felt miserable, and his sleep was constantly interrupted by the realization that he had screwed everything up with the person that had made him the happiest.

He put the bottle back in the bag and stared out the window the rest of the drive home.

* * *

"So, how was your appointment with Dr. Gilbert yesterday?"

Blaine sat down on his usual spot in the middle of the sofa in Dr. Franco's office.

"Pretty good, I guess. He confirmed that I'm not severely depressed. That my depression might stem from overexertion and everything that happened with Kurt," he said simply. Dr. Franco nodded, silently scrutinizing him, as if she was trying to read his face. She cleared her throat.

"Did he prescribe anything?"

"Um, not really, he told me to get some blood tests done first. He only suggested valerian root for now. He says it might help reduce stress, help me sleep better, feel more energy. He also told me to exercise and meditate."

"Excellent idea. People don't give enough credit to how relaxing physical activity can be. Personally, I do yoga," she smiled. "Didn't you tell me you used to practice boxing? Maybe you could take that up again. It's an excellent workout."

Blaine scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, I kinda stopped after half my friends from Glee club graduated. I just don't feel as comfortable being in the school gym without them. You know, I don't feel all that safe, so I'd rather not." He shrugged, as if it weren't important.

Dr. Franco seemed to want to say something, but changed her mind. "What about a gym outside of school?" she finally suggested. Blaine shrugged again.

"Sure, I'll see about that."

Dr. Franco nodded slowly and gave him a half-smile.

"Okay. Good. Now, where were we?"

* * *

"_Hey, I thought you'd be in the library."_

_Blaine unglued his eyes from the football soccer field and looked up to see David approaching from the top of the bleachers. _

"_What?"_

"_That was usually where you went when we had a free period," David said, sitting beside him. _

_Blaine shrugged, gesturing to the book he had open on his lap. "Oh, I just thought I'd come out and read out here; have some fresh air."_

_David nodded, looking out onto the field. "Or, you just came to watch Kurt play soccer," he said with a nod toward the action going down below._

_Kurt was pretty easy to spot, with his porcelain-like skin offset by the bright red t-shirt and black shorts that was part of the Dalton PE uniform, he stood out slightly from the crowd of red t-shirts of his team, and the black ones of the opposing team. _

_Blaine gave David a look. "Yeah, I remembered he had PE at the same time, and I thought it be nice to come support him. So what?"_

"_Nothing," David held up his hands in defense. "Sheesh..." he added under his breath. _

_Blaine glared at him before glancing down at his book for a second. His eyes drifted to the game again. _

"_He's pretty good, isn't he?" David pointed out. Blaine grinned._

"_Not surprised. Did you know that he was the kicker on McKinley's football team last year? The Titans hadn't had a decent kicker in a long time, let alone a really good one. The only game they won last year was thanks to Kurt."_

"_Oh well, then I guess it makes sense," David shrugged, eyeing Blaine's smile as he watched Kurt. _

"_So how do think he's adjusting? Is he as bad as you were last year?" David teased._

"_Well, to be fair, I didn't know anyone when I enrolled. At least Kurt knew me, and you and Wes. So yeah, I think he's doing pretty well."_

_At that moment, someone yelled "Hummel!" and made a pass to Kurt. Kurt dashed ahead of the opponent covering him, chasing after the ball. Two strides later, he drew his right leg back and kicked the ball hard. The ball flew past the defense and straight into the net, just inches from the leaping goalie's outstretched hands. _

"_YES!" Blaine exclaimed, springing to his feet. David gawked, both at the game and at Blaine._

_There was a roar as Kurt's teammates rushed toward him, enveloping in a group hug, while Kurt looked just stunned at what he had just done. Then he broke into the biggest smile. _

"_I think he's doing better than we think," David smiled as the team stopped celebrating and went back to playing. "And I think this is good for you."_

"_What do you mean?" Blaine asked, dumbfounded, as he sat back down. _

_David shrugged, trying not to smile."Just... making a new friend. It's been good for you."_

"_Well, he's been through stuff. I've been through stuff too. I think we can relate," he shrugged. "I'm just glad I can help, somehow."_

"_Yeah, sure." David looked pointedly at Blaine. "But you know what I mean."_

"_Um, no...?" Blaine replied puzzled._

_David narrowed his eyes at him, smirking. "You'll figure it out."_

_Suddenly, just as Kurt was making another run toward the goal with the ball in his possession, Winston McAllen of the opposing defense tried to kick the ball away from Kurt and instead knocked Kurt off his feet. Kurt landed on his stomach with an 'oomph'. Blaine shot up to his feet again._

"_HEY! COME ON!" he shouted in frustration, just as the PE teacher blew the whistle, and the teams both conglomerated around the scene. The teacher signaled for a free throw, and Kurt's team clapped, while Winston helped Kurt get back up. He seemed okay. _

_Blaine made an annoyed noise as he sat down, shaking his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught David giving him a raised-eyebrow look._

"_Don't be so obvious, man. Chill," he said, patting Blaine on the shoulder as he got up to leave._

"_What? What do you-"_

"_I'll be in the library."_

"_Uh, sure. I'll join you in a bit," Blaine replied distractedly, as everyone got in their positions and Kurt got ready for his free throw, with a teammate talking him through it. The teacher blew the whistle, and then Kurt was sprinting slowly toward the ball, before kicking it with all his might. The ball sailed over the barrier and curved down into the goal, once again out of reach of the goalie. _

"_WHOO! YEAH!" Blaine clapped. _

_Kurt's team celebrated effusively with him again. Kurt suddenly glanced up at the bleachers, catching Blaine's eye. Blaine suddenly felt a bit flustered, but he managed to give him a thumbs-up and a smile. _

_It might have been from all the running about and the excitement, but Kurt's face seemed suddenly redder as he waved to Blaine before going back to the game._

_Blaine blushed a little and pretended to go back to reading._

* * *

"_Hey," Kurt said, dropping down next to Blaine in one of the couches in the common room. Blaine closed the book. Clearly he wasn't going to get any reading done today._

"_Hey, how's it going?"_

"_I'm beat," Kurt replied with a sigh, closing his eyes for a second. He didn't look tired, though; in fact, he didn't look like he had been doing sports at all, just a couple of hours earlier. He was fresh from the shower and his hair looked perfect. Blaine noticed that he smelled great too. _

"_I can imagine. You were pretty intense in the game."_

_Kurt snorted. "I wish. I felt so lost out there."_

"_Didn't look like it."_

"_No, seriously, I had no idea what I was doing."_

"_But you were so good out there," Blaine said, smiling brightly. "Too bad you're not interested in trying out for the team. You'd be like Dalton's own Messi."_

_Kurt made an outraged face. "Oh hey, you can't accuse me of being messy. I literally learned the rules of the game, like, five minutes before we started playing."_

_Blaine laughed. "No, no, I mean, like Lionel Messi. The Argentinean footballer?"_

"_Oh, okay," Kurt smiled and shook his head. "I have no idea who that is."_

"_Well, he's one of the best players in the world."_

"_I hardly think I'm one of the best players in the world," Kurt chuckled._

"_Well, for someone who learned the rules five minutes before the game, you were pretty amazing."_

_Kurt's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Thanks," he said sheepishly. _

_They were silent for a moment. Blaine was starting to feel a little dizzy. _

_Kurt sighed. "I've got to go. I'm supposed to meet with Kyle, I'm tutoring him for a French test."_

"_Oh, okay, see you later," Blaine replied, hoping he didn't sound as disappointed as he felt._

"_Yeah, see you."_

_He watched as Kurt headed for the door, just as the aforementioned Kyle walked in, looking for him. _

_Kyle who was in the rowing crew; Kyle who was tall and lean and a junior; Kyle who was actually pretty good in French and did not really need a tutor. Kyle who had suddenly, inexplicably shown a desire to join the Warblers (and bless Wes for telling him, in all honesty, to practice his harmonies and try out again next year). _

_Blaine watched them greet each other, smiling, and then Kyle led Kurt out of the room. Wherever they were headed, Blaine suddenly wished he didn't care so much, instead of pretending to study while his brain concocted a dozen scenarios._

* * *

"So, during that time, what you felt for Kurt was merely a crush?"

Blaine crossed his arms defeatedly. "I guess I thought it was just a crush. Since we were friends, I really didn't want to screw things up with him, so I never said anything or acted on it. Not if it meant losing my best friend."

"Except serenade him as soon as you saw him for the first time," Dr. Franco added with a little smug wink. Blaine blushed.

"I didn't know him, and I didn't think I would see him again."

"But during that time the two of you were friends and schoolmates and fellow Warblers, you didn't know at the time that he also had a crush on you?"

"I kinda knew. I just..." Blaine fidgeted his fingers.

"You didn't believe it."

He nodded. "I thought I might just be making things up in my head."

Dr. Franco chuckled. "Well, haven't we all gone through that..."

Blaine laughed, before he continued talking about serenading Jeremiah at the Gap.

"So, when you sang to that other guy..."

He rubbed his forehead, mortified. "I really don't know what got inside my head... I mean, I kinda liked him. And I thought he might like me." He let out a breathy laugh. "I must have looked like a crazy person; I really wasn't myself when I did everything in my power to get him to ask me out on a second date. And then I sang to him, with the excuse that I was in love with him... So pathetic. And I can't believe the guys let me go through with that madness."

Dr. Franco's lips were pressed, as if she were trying to keep from laughing. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"You can laugh. In retrospect, it's actually pretty funny. But back then, I wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the ground."

"So you didn't really love him."

Blaine shook his head. "No, of course not. I had never been in love in my life before, but I was pretty sure that I wasn't in love." He closed his eyes. "I just wanted to see if I could feel something stronger for him. Stronger than what I felt for Kurt." He laughed again, mirthlessly. "Turns out I can't just make myself fall for someone else that easily."

Dr. Franco shook her head.

"In any case, I thought I'd try. I mean, with him, I had nothing to lose. Except my dignity. Which I totally did. I lost it all, it's probably somewhere beneath a display of scarves."

This time, Dr. Franco did laugh. Blaine himself managed to smile a little.

Then he talked about going with Kurt the party at Rachel's house, where Blaine got drunk for the first time in his life, and waking up in Kurt's bed with a hangover and getting caught by Burt. And talking to Burt about giving Kurt a proper sex talk.

"Was that your first kiss?"

"Yes. But it doesn't count."

Dr. Franco nodded slowly. "So you really didn't think, at the time, that you might be bisexual?" she asked, eyeing him curiously. Blaine shook his head.

"Not really. I was just trying to find an explanation for why that felt good."

"Alcohol?"

"Yep." Blaine laughed a little, then fell silent.

"I think I was just mad at Kurt for saying that there's no such thing as bisexuality."

She shrugged. "What did you expect? He liked you , and you made out with his friend, who is a girl. He was angry and disappointed."

"Yeah, I know that now."

Dr. Franco took a deep breath.

"And did you really talk to Kurt's father about having a talk with Kurt about sex?"

Blaine hid his face behind his hands. "I know, I know. I was so embarrassed," his voice was muffled, so he pulled his hands away and sighed. "He probably thought the worst of me, especially after he had seen me sleeping in Kurt's bed just days before. But in my defense, I had no idea that, a couple of weeks later, I would actually be dating him."

"You had no idea," Dr. Franco repeated, knowingly. Blaine smiled sadly.

"How could I? I never thought I'd get the nerve to even tell him how I felt. I wasn't even sure how I felt. Until the death of the canary."

Dr. Franco tilted her head in confusion. "Excuse me?"

* * *

_Blaine left the Warbler meeting, feeling a tad dizzy. _

_He had done it. There was no backing out anymore._

_He felt a bit elated, but mostly he was still trembling from the adrenaline rush. _

_Oh god, what if it had been a mistake?_

_He had barely any time to think about it, when three pairs of hands were patting him on the back a bit roughly._

"_Dude, I can't believe you did it! You finally did it!"_

"_You totally did it!"_

"_And the look on his face!"_

_Blaine stared around in confusion, because the boys were barely talking loud enough for him to hear anything they were saying. _

"_Guys, keep it down."_

_David, Trent, Jeff, Thad and Nick all turned around. Wes came out of the choir room with Kurt, talking in hushed voices. Wes said something to Kurt, and Kurt nodded awkwardly before walking away, heading in the opposite direction to them. He glanced over his shoulder once, catching Blaine's eye for a second, before turning away. He had that same mournful look since Pavarotti's death._

"_Does he not know we know yet?" Trent asked. "I mean, you guys know we're okay with this, right? In fact, we have been going nuts waiting for one of you to make a freaking move."_

"_Yeah, man, took you long enough," Jeff added._

"_Look, I only asked him to duet with me," Blaine said. "And it was a mistake," he added, mostly to himself. "He's having a hard time right now. He doesn't need me to..." He ran a hand over his hair, messing it up a little. He really couldn't care right now. _

_Jeff and Nick exchanged shocked looks. _

"_What, you're not gonna-?"_

"_Blaine, come on!"_

"_You're joking, right?"_

_Blaine started walking off. Only Wes and David followed him._

"_Blaine, you know that Kurt likes you. When are you gonna get that through your thick head?" David said. Blaine walked into an empty classroom. _

"_Just tell him. What have you got to lose?" David added. Blaine looked morose._

"_Everything."_

_The other boys looked at each other, then back at Blaine._

"_If it turned out that he doesn't feel the same way, then I'd just..."_

_His head swam with all the worst possible scenarios. Kurt not being interested; Kurt just wanting to stay friends; Kurt laughing in his face; Kyle._

"_Who am I kidding... He's-" he sighed defeatedly. "He's a junior, and I'm just a sophomore."_

_David gently slapped his own forehead in frustration and took a deep breath._

"_That is the lamest excuse I expected you to come up with. Besides, you're both the same age! You'd be a junior too, right now, if it weren't for those guys at your old school!"_

"_It's not just that, you know. He's... he's Kurt. He's... Kurt."_

"_He's a guy, like you," David pointed out. "Look, you've gotta stop putting yourself down, man. You're a nice guy, you have a great personality, and I'm gonna be bold enough to say that you're pretty cute. I'm sure that Kurt knows all of that, and I'm pretty sure that he's into you as well."_

_Blaine turned away from the earnest look of his two friends stared out the window. _

"_Give yourself a break, man. You are good enough. You're better, in fact. He likes you, and he's damn right to like you." David sighed. "Back me up, Wes. I can't take another day of these two staring at each other longingly in the choir room and neither one doing anything about it."_

_Blaine felt Wes approach him from behind. He just stood there, and Blaine tried to gauge his friend's expression on the vague reflection on the window pane. A hand fell on his shoulder after a moment._

"_Just think about it, okay? Sleep on it, or something. I know it's kinda scary. You think I wasn't shaking like a leaf when I asked my girlfriend out for the first time?" Wes shrugged. "But you should tell him, be honest with him. I think you have no idea what you could be passing up on."_

* * *

The hour was almost up. Dr. Franco was silent for a moment after Blaine reached the end of his tale.

"Did it ever occur to you that Kurt himself could have the same insecurities as you?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Not at all. He... he's different. He carries himself differently. I know it's a front sometimes, but even back in Dalton, where we knew we didn't have to put on a brave face because we were accepted, he always seemed so much more confident. He doesn't really care about fitting in, he was born to stand out from the crowd. I always need to fit in before I can even try to stand out. He's a lot braver than me."

"But that doesn't mean he's not afraid of getting his heart broken."

"I know," Blaine answered after a beat. "That's just another reason why I'm so angry at myself."

"What is?"

"That I might have made him question, even for a second, how amazing he is. And how lucky I felt to have met him."

He wiped a tear silently. Dr. Franco watched him sympathetically.

"If he is as strong as you say he is, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"What about me?" he asked, staring intently at his knees.

"What about you what?"

"I... I think this is going well, Dr. Franco, but-"

"Please, if you feel comfortable enough, you can call me Nina."

"Nina, I... just don't know what to expect out of all this. Some relief, maybe? Or perhaps a real way to fix things?"

"Is that your question of the day?"

Blaine shrugged for the umpteenth time. Every day he spent on that office, the moment he entered, he felt gradually more comfortable, yes. But at the end of each session, he felt more awkward and confused and lost.

"I guess," he finally replied. "Is this whole treatment supposed to help me get over him and move on, or will it help me correct my mistakes?"

"Actually, it's supposed to help you to be able to decide for yourself which of those two options is best for you."

Blaine nodded slowly, unsure, but a little hopeful.

* * *

_He didn't come to school today._

Kurt stopped in the middle of the hallway on his way to Isabelle's office, and stared at the text message from Sam. It took him a moment to react.

_Do you know why? _he typed in reply, as he continued on his way.

_No, but he skipped Glee yesterday too. Apparently he wasn't feeling well, and he went to the nurse's office, and they called his mom. She drove him to school. He was late, too._

Blaine's mom drove him to school? And then picked him up early?

"Ouch!"

He had been staring at his phone intently and walking at the same time, so obviously he bumped into someone by accident and dropped his phone.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked, bending down to pick up Kurt's phone and handed it back.

"Sorry. Thanks. So sorry. I'm fine. Sorry, Are you okay?"

Kurt checked the iPhone for any damages. He saw another message from Sam.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah..." Kurt looked up from the phone screen. "Sorry, what?"

"You've been really quiet."

"Oh, yeah, just stuff on my mind."

"Is everything okay?"

Kurt wondered how he could tell Chase to get lost without sounding rude, but he settled for a pressed-lips smile and a quick nod.

"Sorry, I've got a meeting with Isabelle. See you around," he said, briskly walking away. He could feel Chase's eyes on his back as he hurried down the rest of the way to see Isabelle. He stopped again, just outside her door, and opened the text from Sam.

_Seriously, dude, is anything wrong with Blaine? Is there something wrong between the two of you? Is it his family? Give us something, man. I admit we were a little angry at him, cuz he seemed to be ignoring us, but now we're just, you know, concerned._

Kurt closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Was there something wrong? Of course there was. But something much deeper was going on with Blaine, and he had no idea what it was. And for the first time since he met him, he couldn't just call Blaine or text him or go see him and find out for himself.

He hated how much he worried over him. He didn't want to. But he'd be lying if he told himself that he could just ignore this and be fine.

Kurt worried his lip for a second, tapping away on the screen.

_Don't worry, Sam. I'll talk to him. Thanks for letting me know. _

He locked his phone and stashed it in his pocket, and walked into Isabelle's office, putting on a nonchalant face and a disaffected smile.

* * *

Once he got home, he spent the remainder of the day holed up in the apartment, debating whether he should try to call or not.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He just wanted to know if everything was okay.

Rachel wasn't there to dissuade him.

Kurt lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling awkward. Like he had on the day after Blaine had accompanied him to confront Karofsky. He and Blaine had been practically strangers, and Blaine had faced a bully for him. He had put himself at risk for someone he had just met. It was a strange feeling of being connected to someone that he barely knew.

And he felt like he barely knew Blaine now.

But if he was honest with himself, he still knew Blaine very well. There was still a connection, one that is not easily broken.

Because before Kurt and Blaine were 'Kurt and Blaine' (or Klaine, as their friends had often referred to them fondly), they were friends. They became best friends, and they would text each other words of encouragement, listen to each other, cheer on each other. They care about and supported one another, and they were honest with each other, no matter what.

If there was any of that left there, in that vague universe that maybe still existed between them, then Kurt probably couldn't tune out his concern over Blaine any more easily than he could stop worrying about the rest of his friends, no matter how far away they could get.

He sat up in bed and grabbed his phone, and speed-dialed Blaine before he could change his mind.

He ignored the increasing rate of his heartbeat as the phone rang.

He hadn't even thought about what he was going to say.

"_Hello, this is Blaine Anderson, please leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

_Beep._

Kurt's face fell.

He stared at his phone for a few minutes. It was early, Blaine would likely still be awake. Maybe he had left his phone in his room and he was downstairs in the kitchen. Or maybe he left it in the car.

Or maybe he just didn't want to talk to Kurt.

He waited a couple more minutes and tried again.

The call was disconnected before it even reached the voicemail message.

Okay, so Blaine knew he was calling. And he didn't want to talk to him.

That settled it then. Sam would probably text him tomorrow to find out if he knew what was wrong with Blaine. And what could he tell him?

The connection is broken.

He opened a message box to text Blaine.

_Sorry I called you. I just wanted to know if you're okay. _

His thumb hovered over the 'send' button.

What difference did it make anymore?

He let out a long breath. He pressed backspace enough times to delete the entire message and put his phone on the bedside table. Then he got ready to go to bed. He didn't really feel like talking to Rachel, or anyone, really.

* * *

Blaine watched his phone intently, as Kurt's face flashed across the screen and the phone vibrated, dancing on top of his bedspread.

He couldn't, for the life of him, imagine what Kurt might want to say to him, and what he'd say in reply.

The idea of something positive barely entered his mind, before it was shot right back out by a flood of doubts.

The phone stopped vibrating, and the screen went black. Blaine breathed a sigh of relief.

It had basically taken him all his willpower not to answer. He shouldn't talk to Kurt right now, he told himself, this was probably not a good time to talk to him. He knew what the sound of Kurt's voice might do to him, what it might do to everything Blaine felt he had accomplished so far.

Which was barely anything, but he still feared the setback would be considerable.

He needed to feel better first; he needed to know that he wouldn't completely crumble and ask Kurt to take him back, beg him even. Because he couldn't risk sinking into an even deeper depression when Kurt told him no, as Blaine knew he would.

He sat in the middle of his bed and took a few deep breaths and thought about distracting himself.

"_Why not a journal?" _Dr. Franco had said that day, earlier in their session, when Blaine asked him about alternate therapies, like Dr. Gilbert had suggested.

"_A journal?"_

"_Yes. Try some free-writing. Put everything that's on your mind on paper. I've heard from a lot of people who come see me, that it's quite therapeutic. It's a different kind of meditation. It's like emptying your mind of thoughts."_

Blaine had had, for a brief moment, the vague image of that scene in _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_, when Professor Dumbledore using his wand to pull his thoughts out of his head in the form of fine strands of glowing silver, and dropping it into the pensieve. What a delightful idea, to be able to do that with one's thoughts, so that the mind doesn't feel as cluttered and chaotic as it usually does.

He stood up and fetched a small Moleskine journal that was still blank, one that Cooper had gotten him years ago and that had been buried at the bottom of his desk at Dalton. He grabbed a pen from his desk and sat back in bed, wondering how to start.

The pen hovered at the top of the first page, when the phone started vibrating again.

Blaine froze, just about to stare intently at it again until it went to voicemail. But at the second ring, he snatched it up and pressed the ignore button, and the phone stopped vibrating again.

With a deep sigh, he put down the phone and started writing.

He filled three whole pages, which wasn't a lot considering how small the notebook was, but in a cramped, lopsided handwriting he hurried to write everything that crossed his mind. It was like the pen came alive on its own. It was a strange feeling, but altogether fulfilling.

When he felt like he couldn't write anymore, he put the notebook in the drawer of his bedside table. His hand hurt. He grabbed his phone and stared at the first missed call from Kurt.

Kurt had called him. And he decided to take that as a good sign, no matter what the call had been about.

As he went about getting ready for bed, he stared at the bottle of valerian root on top of his dresser.

Without thinking too much about it, he unscrewed the cap and took one capsule. He swallowed with a big gulp of water and took another deep breath. Even though he knew it might take a few days before he felt any different, he suddenly felt better. He had to get better.

* * *

_I take valerian root. Crazy work and school schedules have wrecked my sleeping schedules for years, and then I started taking valerian capsules, and I'm doing pretty well now. Being an adult is hard. :)_

_Also free-writing. Sometimes the biggest problems have the simplest solutions. _

_Hope you enjoyed it. Have a good week. And to my American readers, DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!_

_-Valentina._


	4. Chapter 4

_I should've been done with this chapter much earlier. But I'm a procrastinator. Also, it came out a lot longer than I expected. Hope that's okay. I just tried to cram most of my original post-breakup headcanon in one chapter before the actual episode where we see more of what happened. _

_I'm exhausted._

_Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and FOX._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Chapter 4**

It was finally the weekend. No school, no need to give explanations for not wanting to show up for class or glee or anything. No reason for Blaine to pretend to be okay.

His father was not happy with him skipping school, but Blaine guessed that his mother had a talk with him about it, and so he didn't hear about it again. He should've felt bad for it, but he was just relieved.

On friday, he went to his appointment with Dr. Gilbert; they reviewed Blaine's blood tests results together. Everything was fine, as expected. So Dr. Gilbert only prescribed a mild anti-depressive.

"We'll start small, see how it goes, and depending on how things go, we can increase or reduce the dosage or stop it altogether."

He suggested that Blaine continue to take the valerian root as well, because it would help him sleep better and help the process along faster.

Blaine wondered how long it would actually be before the valerian root kicked in. He just wanted to be able to sleep. He wanted to be able to get through the night without thinking about Kurt.

* * *

Blaine had not slept at all that night in New York. Neither had Kurt. And it was Blaine's fault.

He had wanted so badly to comfort him, to reach over and hold Kurt in his arms and soothe him to sleep, but he knew he had no right.

So he had just lay there, on his side, pretending to sleep, listening to Kurt cry quietly.

Since then, every night, all he could hear in his mind was Kurt. Kurt crying, heartbroken, and Blaine unable to do anything about it. Or rather, to _undo_ anything.

* * *

So he was very surprised when, that Sunday morning, he woke up feeling well-rested. He vaguely remembered dreaming about Kurt, as he always did. This time, apparently, he had been able to rest in spite of it.

He felt a surge of hope. Maybe he was getting better after all.

* * *

He tried to create a routine of alternate therapies, as his doctors had suggested.

So each morning and each night, he wrote on his journal.

Each morning, he tried meditation.

And each morning, he put on his running shoes, and went out.

So far so good.

He left his iPod at home, and he ran for at least half hour, with only the sound of his shoes on the pavement as company.

He might be starting to feel better, but every song was still about Kurt.

* * *

Then suddenly it was monday again.

He knew that he had to go to school. His father wouldn't have him skip a single day more.

Blaine groaned a little as the alarm went off, and forcefully threw the covers off and rubbed his eyes.

Getting out of bed was almost as hard as it had been for the past three weeks.

Almost, but not quite.

_Deep breath,_ he said to himself, as he sat up, grabbing his journal and a pen. _One step at a time._

* * *

Blaine walked into the choir room. All eyes were suddenly on him, but only for a second. Everyone soon reassumed the chatter. There was a new guy sitting with Marley. How long had Blaine been away?

"Blaine!" exclaimed Mr. Schuester. "So glad to have you back. Feeling better?"

Blaine fidgeted, walking to the front.

"Sorry I'm late," he replied simply. Mr. Schuester handed some music sheets to Brad, the piano man, and smiled.

"It's okay. We were just about to start." Blaine bit his lip hesitantly.

"Can I make a brief announcement first?"

Mr. Schue seemed to sense the tone in Blaine's voice.

"Sure. Kids?"

The others slowly fell silent and turned to the front. Blaine felt his stomach churn with nerves. It took him a moment to find his voice.

"I would like to apologize to all of you for my behavior the past couple of weeks," he started, his voice unusually breathy. He almost felt like throwing up. "I know I've been acting weird, and I know that some of you might be wondering why," he continued, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I've been... dealing with some stuff, I still am."

"What do you mean?" Tina asked.

"I'm... I wasn't doing so well, so I sought professional help, and I'm currently undergoing treatment for depression."

Brittany's hands covered her mouth. Tina and Sam exchanged wide-eyed glances. Artie stared agape.

Blaine took a deep breath. "The truth is, I wasn't handling Kurt's absence very well, and I did something... really stupid. And it's been hard. I made a huge mistake." He swallowed again, feeling the burn of tears behind his eyes. "But I'm working on fixing it. I'm trying to get better. I just needed to sort things out on my own, for a while, so I'm sorry that I've been..."

There was a hand on his shoulder. "Blaine, it's okay," Mr. Schuester said.

"Are you guys okay?" Tina asked worriedly. Blaine shook his head slowly, his eyes brimming now.

"No. No, it's... we're... we're not together anymore. I... hurt him. And I don't really expect him to forgive me."

Brittany got up from her seat, tears streaming down her face, and walked up to Blaine and hugged him.

"Blaine Warbler, I feel your pain," she said softly.

Blaine wrapped his arms around her and hugged back as hard as he could.

* * *

"What's it like?" Sugar asked.

"What's what like?" Blaine asked in response.

"Being medicated."

Tina shoved Sugar slightly. It was lunchtime, and Sugar, Artie, Sam, Brittany and Tina sat with Blaine in the courtyard, speaking in hushed voices. At least they weren't pretending that everything was okay. Now they knew, and they cared.

"It's okay, Tina," he said. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I just started this weekend. I'm guessing it takes a couple of days to feel a difference."

"But you're still gonna be you, right? You'll still be Blaine Warbler?" Brittany asked.

Blaine gave a small chuckle. "I hope so." He noticed Brittany staring at him worriedly, so he nodded a little more confident. "Yeah, Brit, I'm still gonna be me."

"Have you felt somewhat better since you started?" Artie asked.

"A little. It's been really comforting talking to someone about everything."

"Like you couldn't talk to us?" Sam said bitterly.

Tina rolled her eyes. "Sam, I think we're the least qualified people to try to help someone with relationship problems."

"No, he's right," Blaine said. "I should've talked to you guys. I just didn't know how. I was too caught up in my own head, and I was afraid that you would all judge me and turn against me."

Tina shook her head. "We should've asked. You've been so distant lately. We should've known something was wrong."

"Does Kurt know?" Artie asked.

"That I'm going to therapy? No, he doesn't."

Sam and Tina exchanged a look.

"But... what if someone told him?" Sam asked.

"I haven't spoken to him in all this time." Blaine looked at both of them pointedly. "Have you?"

They looked at each other again, until Sam sighed.

"Look, I'm really sorry," he started. "I might have told him. I was worried about you, and I didn't know you guys had broken up."

Blaine stared at them curiously. "But... you didn't know either."

"Well, I... I saw you, coming out of the office," Tina stammered.

"And I asked Kurt if he knew anything about that," Sam added. Blaine started shaking his head.

"I-"

"I'm sorry, man. You weren't talking to any of us, and I was worried about you." Sam looked so embarrassed. "You know, Kurt's my friend too, and I just... I thought he'd want to know that you had, you know, that you have been... not yourself."

"We should've talked to you first," Tina interjected.

"I should've known something was wrong from his reaction," Sam said.

"He was going to find out eventually," Blaine shrugged. "Did he say anything?"

"He just seemed confused. The last time we texted, you hadn't come to school in three days. He said he would talk to you and find out what was wrong, and I assumed everything was okay."

"Yeah, he did call me. Or tried to. I didn't answer."

"Why not?" Sugar asked.

"I didn't want to lose track of what I'm trying to accomplish. I'm trying to get better before I do anything, before..." He sighed deeply. "I just don't know what I want to do. I don't know if I'm trying to make things right so that I can try to get him back, or I should just try to move on."

His friends looked at one another.

"Whatever you decide to do, we'll help you," Tina finally said, patting his leg. Blaine tried to smile, but failed miserably.

* * *

"So you told your friends?" Dr. Franco asked on their next session.

"Yeah," Blaine said, sitting down.

"Good for you. And how did they react?"

"They were a lot more supportive than I would've expected."

"Then maybe you don't give them enough credit."

It was the first session of the week with Dr. Franco. Blaine had been taking the anti-depressive medication for four days now, and he wasn't sure if it was all in his head, but he did feel slightly more energetic, and a lot less gloomy. Or maybe it was everything he had been doing.

"I've followed your advice."

"And?"

Blaine took a deep breath. "I think I can see the light at the end of the tunnel."

"That's great," Dr. Franco smiled again. "What have you tried? Exercise? Meditation? Free-writing?"

"Actually all of them. I've been keeping a journal as well."

"Good. Maybe you can show it to Kurt one day."

Blaine nodded uncertainly. "Sure."

* * *

"_I think I'm going back to McKinley."_

_Blaine tensed. He and Kurt were on Blaine's bed in his dorm room in Dalton, studying. It had been a little over a month since Regionals, since Blaine had taken a leap of faith and told Kurt, and they had kissed, and they were now together, and wanting to spend every second together._

_And suddenly this._

_Kurt must have felt him tense, since he was using Blaine's stomach as a pillow. He looked up at him._

"_I haven't really decided yet, though."_

_Blaine tried to look normal and calm. "How come?"_

_Kurt put his notebook down and sat up, facing Blaine._

"_I had a meeting yesterday with Coach Sylvester and my dad, and... Karofsky and his dad."_

_Blaine's eyebrows lifted._

"_I know," Kurt said. "We talked. I mean, Karofsky and I talked, because most of what he said during the meeting was complete bullshit. He confessed that Santana got him to agree to all of it, to start the Bullywhips and meet with me, and she's helping him reform himself, and all so that I can go back."_

"_So... this is all Santana's doing, not Karofsky's?"_

"_Apparently. She obviously knows about him too, and she's blackmailing him. I'm not entirely sure of her whole agenda, but I have to admit, I'm a little touched." Kurt smirked._

_Blaine tried to smile as well._

"_But you're gonna be okay, right?" he asked. Kurt nodded slowly._

"_Yes, I think so. I mean, my dad's freaking out. But he said it was up to me."_

_Blaine grinned. "He's just worried about you. Your dad loves you."_

"_I know."_

"_So... you're thinking about it."_

_Kurt shrugged. "I am. You know I like it here; I met you here. But let's face it, I don't really fit in. As much as I feel safe and appreciated... I really miss my old friends. And I admit it, I miss fighting tooth and nail with Rachel for solos. Does that make me a bit of a masochist?"_

_They laughed together. _

"_No, it just makes you really brave," Blaine answered. Kurt looked at him._

"_So... you'd be okay with it?"_

"_You're really asking me?"_

"_Of course. I know we just started going out, but I really like you, and I care about what you think."_

"_I already told you that I'd be okay with it, my only issue was Karofsky. I guess that's taken care of."_

"_I'll be fine. But I just wanted to make sure that you're okay with it too."_

_Blaine had no idea. He had never had a boyfriend before, and he hadn't had the chance to learn how to cope with distance, no matter how small and temporary. _

_And Karofsky? He didn't quite like the idea of that guy being in the same building as Kurt._

_He glanced down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kurt's open Chemistry notebook. There were a few doodles on the margins: 'Blaine' with a little heart to dot the 'i', Blaine+Kurt, K+B... _

_He smiled to himself, then gave Kurt a broader one. _

"_I think we can handle it," he said. "And your friends obviously miss you too. Besides, how can New Directions ever win Nationals without you?" _

_Kurt laughed lightly and hugged him. Blaine's smile disappeared. _

_They'd still see each other every day, but he was still a bit sad. No more hanging out in each other's dorm rooms after school hours; no more sitting together in Warbler meetings; no more spontaneous kisses or hand holding as they walked through hallways where no one looked at them disapprovingly. _

_Kurt pulled back and stared at him. "Are you sure?"_

_Blaine didn't answer. Instead, he kissed him. After this, there would only be a handful of places where they could kiss in private. _

_Kurt kissed him back, and Blaine relished the sound and feel of it all. He had to enjoy it while he could. _

_The truth is, he was afraid. He feared that he had gotten too comfortable with the idea of having his boyfriend right there all day, and if the dynamic changed, then Kurt would soon realize it was just too much trouble, and that it was good while it lasted..._

_He deepened the kiss, gently pulling Kurt down by the back of his neck, until Kurt's chest was flush against his. _

"_Mmmwe're supposed to be, mmmstudying," Kurt mumbled against Blaine's mouth. _

_Blaine just kept kissing him."I'll study when you're gone," he whispered, intertwining their fingers._

"_Mmm, it's against the dorm rules," Kurt said, breathing harder._

"_It says something about this in the dorm rules?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Huh," Blaine said, smiling mischievously. "It's our last chance to break the rules, then."_

_Kurt giggled. "Maybe just a little bit."_

* * *

_That was one of the main reasons for which Blaine decided to transfer to McKinley._

_He wanted to face the public high school demons that haunted him for more than two years. _

_He wanted to feel like he wasn't a little overprotected bird in a cage._

_But most importantly, he wanted to see Kurt's face every day, even if they didn't get to do the things they could in Dalton, or feel as safe. _

"_I can't stand to be apart from the person I love."_

_That was true. But he had made it sound so romantic. When in reality, the distance and time apart had been killing him._

* * *

_Here he was scared and he felt completely different, unsafe, without his uniform, without the Warblers, without the elegant halls and strict private school policies._

_McKinley was an alien place to him. The students were too loud and free-willed. The teachers were too apathetic. Still no one cared enough. Things weren't any different than they were two years ago._

_But it was worth it._

_It was worth putting up with all of it, with feeling like he didn't fit in. Because at the end of the day, he had Kurt. He belonged with Kurt. That was all that mattered._

* * *

_While everyone celebrated 'West Side Story's opening night at Breadstix, Blaine and Kurt were wrapped up in each other's arms, all naked bodies slick with sweat and bedsheets tangled in their legs. _

_It was everything that Blaine had expected and more. It was a little messy and wonderful and awkward and amazing. It was perfect._

_He listened to Kurt's soft breathing, feeling the falling and rising of his chest against his own. His left foot had gone numb, but Blaine didn't care._

_He drew patterns on Kurt's back with lazy fingers, and kissed his forehead lightly, over and over again._

_Kurt drew a long breath and his eyes fluttered open slowly, shifting against the side of Blaine's body. _

"_Hey," Blaine greeted him. "How are you?"_

"_Fantastic," Kurt said hoarsely. "You?"_

_Blaine grabbed one of his hands and intertwined their fingers._

"_I'm just really, really happy right now," he whispered._

_Kurt smiled, biting his lower lip bashfully, and kissed Blaine. They stayed like that for a very long time. Blaine could've stayed like that for the rest of his life._

* * *

"Blaine?"

Blaine snapped out of his trace, and turned to look at Dr. Franco.

"You spaced out there for a moment. Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

Blaine shrugged. "I was just... trying to remember what it was like to feel happy."

* * *

Once again, the hour was drawing to a close. Which was good, because suddenly all Blaine wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed and sleep.

He was weary. He spent the entire session talking as briefly as he could about Kurt's transfer back to McKinley, and junior prom, and summer vacation, and his own transfer to McKinley, and trying to fit in with the rest of New Directions, and Sebastian Smythe, and his first time with Kurt, and the bubblegum ring he gave Kurt for Christmas, and Sebastian and the Warblers being assholes and nearly blinding him, and Karofsky's suicide attempt, and Cooper's return, and the whole incident with Chandler and Kurt texting each other, and Kurt nailing his NYADA audition and then inexplicably failing to get in, and the seniors' graduation, and Sectionals, Regionals and Nationals and all the drama in between.

It was like reliving the emotional roller-coaster that had been his junior year. When he finished talking, he was exhausted. Dr. Franco, on the other hand, didn't seem at all fazed by the amount of information.

"Blaine, do you consider that you have a good opinion of yourself?"

Blaine shook his head slowly. "Not right now."

Dr. Franco paused. "I think your depression stems from a low self-esteem," she started. "It's clear that you have difficulty seeing yourself in a positive light, in spite of all your good qualities. You're a good student, smart, good-looking, kind, responsible, talented, well-mannered, mature... But I think that your sexuality, and the fact that you were bullied for it, and that your family's behavior toward you changed when you came out, all those things have played a big part in it."

Blaine took a moment to gather his wits.

"Yes," he said, not knowing what else to say. Dr. Franco sat forward.

"When you transferred to Dalton, it's just like you said. You felt safe, but it was like an illusion, because you knew that the outside world doesn't work like Dalton." She took a deep breath. "The problem was that, once you left Dalton, you also stopped having the acceptance and appreciation that you had there. You encountered your friend Finn, who wasn't so friendly at the beginning, and then even the Warblers suddenly weren't so friendly to you anymore; you were now in a school where you didn't feel safe. You faced a lot of rejection, even from Kurt."

"Yes," Blaine repeated in a low voice.

"You didn't know how to cope with it, because you didn't perceive that you had any issues with your self-esteem. Back in Dalton, you fitted in, you were part of the team, and everyone looked up to you."

"Yes."

"So when you encountered problems, your insecurities got the best of you. You wouldn't even admit that Kurt was as smitten with you at the beginning as you were with him. And when he refused to have sex with you because you had been drinking, you shut down; you got defensive."

Blaine just nodded.

"A lot of us have these insecurities, especially when we're teenagers, and sometimes our entire lives," she continued. "But when a low self-esteem turns into a self-destructive behavior, then it's a problem."

Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat.

* * *

The next days at school were not as awkward as Blaine had foreseen, but there was still some things he'd have to get used to.

His friends tried to act natural around him, but there were still a few overly-sympathetic glances and smiles in his direction. The new kids were nice, but he got the feeling that they thought he was crazy, and that made him feel a little worse too. And if that cheerleader Kitty spewed any more bullshit around him, he might just hit a girl.

But as the day progressed, he realized he wasn't as tired as he used to feel. He had regained some of his appetite, and since he was resting better at night, he could focus more during class.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to smile; he couldn't chatter like he usually would; and everyone knew not to push him into joining in the spontaneous group numbers during glee club.

One time, though, the newest guy, Ryder, made a really funny joke about something that happened during football practice, and Blaine almost laughed.

He almost did.

* * *

"Would you tell me about Eli?"

Blaine tensed. This was the part he had been dreading.

"There is nothing to say. I'm never seeing or talking to him again," he said sourly.

Dr. Franco took a deep breath. "We do have to talk about this. I know you don't want to, but it's important." She peered at him over her reading glasses. Blaine didn't understand why she wore reading glasses when she never read anything during their sessions. She didn't keep notes; it was like she actually memorized everything he had said from the beginning.

"Come on, let's get that out of the way, shall we?"

Blaine took a deep breath too, rubbing his palms on his jeans. He felt his stomach churn.

"How did you two meet?" she asked. Blaine took a moment to answer. He had done so much to try to forget everything, and now he was supposed to remember it all again.

"He started working at The Lima Bean, right after Kurt left. He came in to replace Kurt, in fact."

"So you still go to the Lima Bean often? Is that how you met?"

Blaine nodded, eyes fixed on the coffee table. "Yes. He was always offering me free beverages and stuff, and I kept turning him down."

"Until you didn't."

"I just... I kinda liked the attention."

Dr. Franco breathed deeply. "You told me that you once got really angry at Kurt for texting with a guy, and he too said that he just liked the attention. But it didn't go further than that. Also, you told me that you texted for a long time with Sebastian Smythe, even though you knew he was attracted to you and he was very bold in his advances, and even knowing that he was hostile toward Kurt and that Kurt didn't like him. You stayed in touch with him up to the point where he tried to hurt your boyfriend."

"Sebastian is a stuck up jerk, I know that now," Blaine said bitterly.

"It's clear that you don't know how to handle other people's attraction toward you. You don't know where to draw the may think you're just being polite, but it's your insecurity kicking in."

"Now, in Sebastian's case, it didn't escalate to any kind of intimacy, because you had Kurt. Why do you think that, as soon as Kurt was gone, even though you were still in a committed relationship, did you let it escalate with Eli?"

Blaine looked like he was in pain. "I didn't really plan for it," he said. "I just felt really lonely."

"Maybe you felt you had passed to a second plane in Kurt's world, and that it was basically over."

"It's just that, every time we finally got the chance to talk, he'd go on and on about how wonderful New York is, about Vogue, and I tried to be supportive, but for once I wish he had supported me," Blaine said. He realized he was getting worked up over it. "I was there with him during his run for Senior class president. When I won this year, I couldn't even tell him, because he wouldn't pick up his phone."

"I understand that. We all need validation, especially from the people we love. But he was going through a lot himself. Starting in a new city, it's scary. That doesn't mean that what you were going through, and your accomplishments, were any less important."

"Yes," Blaine said wearily.

"What exactly happened with Eli?"

Blaine looked down at his lap, his cheeks and neck feeling warmer.

"I met up with him, at the Lima Bean. He was just finishing his shift, and he invited me over to his house. We were going to watch a movie, and that's it." He took a shuddering breath. "One thing led to another, and he started kissing me... and... I didn't stop him."

He blushed beet red, determined not to meet Dr. Franco's eyes.

"He... he started blowing me," he said in a very small voice. "And I was really turned on all of a sudden, but all I could think about was Kurt."

Hot tears spilled from his eyes before he knew it. There was a horrible burning sensation in his chest and his throat. He didn't want to remember it, but he felt like he was reliving it all of a sudden. Hands, strong hands, pushing his hips down, and hot breath all over his groin. The hands touched him everywhere, every part of his body, and he shivered at the touch. There were lips closing around him over and over again, and he shut his eyes hard, biting his lip, afraid to speak or make any noise.

All he could think of, with this guy, this overeager strange guy moaning around him, was Kurt.

"I wanted to get off. But I just felt so weird. It didn't feel good. Because it wasn't Kurt."

He wiped his face furiously with the butts of his hands, rubbing his eyes a little too hard.

"So I stopped him. But it was..."

"Too late?" Dr. Franco offered somberly. Blaine nodded, swallowing his tears.

"I left as soon as I stopped feeling like I wanted to vomit."

There was a pause as Blaine tried to regain his composure.

"Has he tried to contact you since?"

"Yes," Blaine replied, conveying his frustration. "Once or twice, and then I guess he gave up. I haven't seen him working at the Lima Bean either. Though I've only been back there once."

Another short silence. Blaine felt himself calming down little by little.

"Did you always intend to tell Kurt what had happened?"

Blaine stared sadly at his hands.

"I should've booked the tickets then," he said weakly. "I should've just focused on the plan of going earlier, of surprising him in New York, instead of answering those texts from..."

Dr. Franco nudged a glass of water in his direction.

"When you told Kurt, how did he react?"

* * *

_Blaine woke up, tired beyond anything he had ever felt, his head thumping. He had barely slept at all._

_He stayed very still, straining his ears to listen. He looked over his shoulder and saw Kurt's side of the bed was empty._

_There were faint voices coming from the living room area. The metal door clanked open and shut, and then there was silence. _

_Blaine sat on the edge of the bed, and willed his body to stand up. He had to find Kurt._

_Kurt was alone in the living room, slouched in a chair, in the dim light of a single lamp. _

_As soon as he saw him, Blaine felt his heart plummet to his feet. Kurt looked weary. His eyes were heavy, and he looked like he was doing everything in his power not to fall apart._

_Blaine moved forward minutely, and Kurt's eyes were suddenly on him, staring hard at him._

_The silence seemed to stretch, as Blaine tried to think of something, anything to say._

_But it was Kurt who spoke first, after what felt like a long time. _

"_I can't do this," he said in a faint, watery voice. "I thought I could, but I can't."_

_Blaine took a hesitant step forward. Kurt didn't move. Blaine slowly, carefully, crossed the living room, and sat beside Kurt. He placed a hand on his boyfriend's hand._

"_Kurt."_

_Kurt was up like a spring. He shuffled noiselessly to the kitchen, and stood at the table. Blaine watched him, trembling, watched his breathing get so worked up that his shoulders heaved up and down._

_Kurt suddenly turned around._

"_You told me to come to New York," he started, angry tears pooling in his eyes. "You said you'd be okay. You said you'd come here too in a year, and that it would be just like we wanted."_

_Blaine stood up as he spoke, bridging the distance between them again. He tried to grab Kurt's hands, hold them in his, but Kurt flinched away, his face contorting with pain, as if he had just been physically hurt. His tears spilled. _

"_Kurt, please."_

"_Don't touch me. I can't even look at you right now," he said brokenly, turning away again._

"_Please. We can work our way over this, Kurt," Blaine said, his own eyes filling with tears. He followed Kurt, trying to get him to stop moving and to look at him. "I love you, you know that, and I know you still love me."_

"_No, right now I don't know." Kurt covered his face with his hands and sobbed into them. "Ugh, I just keep picturing you with some faceless guy..."_

_Blaine was crying now, just as hard as Kurt. _

"_Kurt, it meant nothing. It can never mean anything. You're the only who means everything to me."_

"_Please don't touch me," Kurt pleaded, struggling to get away from Blaine, but Blaine didn't listen. He grabbed Kurt by the shoulders and held him in place. Kurt crumbled to the floor, but Blaine just knelt in front of him. _

"_You once said that you would never say goodbye to me," he said, taking Kurt's hand and trying to kiss it, before Kurt pulled it away and tried to push him._

"_What the hell did I know?" he sobbed. "I also once thought that you were the one person who would never, ever hurt me. And look at where we are now..." He sniffed and looked at Blaine, his face slightly calmer. "I don't know you at all."_

"_You don't mean that."_

_Kurt's face turned stony, his eyes peering into space. The tears still flowed freely from his eyes._

"_I think you should go."_

"_Please, Kurt," Blaine cried. "I love you, I love you more than anything, more than myself. I can't be without you."_

"_Are you sure about that? It seems that you've been trying," Kurt's voice was strangely even and deep._

"_It was a stupid mistake! It never should've happened!"_

_Kurt looked at him once more, looking numb._

"_Well, you should have thought of that before you decided to break my heart and destroy everything we had... on a whim."_

_Blaine stood up, watching Kurt hugging his knees to his body, and tried to contain the sobs racking his body uncontrollably._

* * *

_Half an hour later, Blaine had changed out of his pajamas and put everything in his bag, and called a cab to take him to the airport. He called the airline to confirm his flight, all along trying not to think about Kurt, still on the floor of the kitchen, sitting in the dark, waiting for him to leave without saying goodbye._

* * *

"Kurt?"

Rachel poked her head carefully into Kurt's room, and found him sprawled on his stomach, on top of the bedspread. He was still in his clothes, and Rachel's heart sank, realizing that her friend was in a real funk if he didn't care that his pants and shirt were getting awfully wrinkled.

"Are you sleeping?" she asked dumbly, though it was obvious he wasn't. His head was tilted to one side, eyes staring into nothing, in the fading daylight pouring though the open window.

"No," he answered, his voice half muffled.

"Are you ill?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"Fine, I lied."

"What happened?"

There was a pause.

"Blaine cheated on me."

Rachel winced. She no longer knew how to deal with Kurt's situation.

"I know that," she simply said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I just thought something else had happened, since you seem particularly down right now."

"Did I ever tell you that, last Christmas, he gave me a promise ring?"

She blinked in confusion. "What?"

Kurt opened his left hand, revealing a red jewelry gift box. Rachel snatched it up quicker than she had intended, and opened it. Inside was the cutest hand-made ring with a bow tie. She almost aww'd, but kept herself in check.

"It wasn't an engagement ring. Just a promise," he said flatly.

"What was the promise?"

Kurt sighed. "It doesn't matter anymore. He broke it. He broke all the promises."

Rachel closed the box carefully and placed it back in Kurt's hand. "Then why do you still have this?"

Kurt slowly rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. She noticed the redness in his eyes.

"Because it's all I have left," he said softly. "Because a part of me refuses to acknowledge that it's over. And I just don't know how to get rid of it."

"Then don't," Rachel started. "Kurt, you know they say time heals all wounds-"

"You can't just-"

"Wait, wait, don't... just hear me out." She took a deep breath. "I know that Blaine hurt you badly. I know that there is no excuse for what he did. But you haven't had the closure that you need to start moving on, or to forgive him or something. Right now, you're just stuck. I think you need to talk to him, I think it's been long enough that you can have a conversation about this, sort everything out."

"What if I don't want to?"

Rachel caressed his hair. "Of course you do. You do."

Kurt closed his eyes and rolled over again, so that his head was now resting on Rachel's lap, his arms snaking around her waist, and she smiled a little as she continued playing with his hair. She wished there was a way to make it all better, but at least she got to do this.

"Look, I'm meeting Brody for dinner. Would you join us?" she offered. Kurt didn't move or reply.

"It's nothing fancy, and he won't mind. Please?"

Still no response.

"Come on, Kurt, don't lie here in the dark and wallow, I hate seeing you like this. Please?"

Without a word, Kurt finally sat up in bed and sighed heavily.

"I look a mess," he said simply.

"Nonsense. You're gorgeous. You'll be the perfect arm-candy," she joked.

Kurt chuckled lightly, but he didn't smile.

* * *

"You're still doing 'Grease', right?"

Blaine glanced at Sam, while Sam put his name on the list for the musical tryouts, and gestured for Blaine to take the pen.

"I don't think so," Blaine said, shaking his head lightly.

"But you're so good. I heard you were really good in West Side Story last year. And you need this for your curriculum for when you apply to NYADA. You're still applying to NYADA, aren't you?"

Blaine shrugged dismissively. Sam sighed.

"Blaine, you don't give up on everything just because you broke up with your boyfriend."

Blaine turned to Sam squarely, frowning. Sam seemed to sense he had made a blunder.

"I didn't _just break up with my boyfriend, _it just so happens that my life is kind of on hold right now," Blaine practically seethed. "I've been in a funk for years now, even when I was with Kurt and I thought I was okay. Now that I ruined everything good that I had going on, I need to deal with it once and for all, so that I can move on with my life. Sorry, but I don't feel like I have time to rehearse the Hand Jive. I barely feel like I can function properly."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," Sam said, looking genuinely remorseful. "I'm just trying to be supportive."

Blaine sighed. "I know."

They headed to Biology. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine could see that Sam was fighting the urge to say something else.

"You don't have to try out for Danny Zuko, you know," Sam finally said. "You could be another character, a minor character."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "I don't think so."

"And I didn't mean to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. I know that Kurt meant a lot to you."

Blaine suddenly felt very tired again.

"He meant everything to me."

There was an awkward silence.

"Um, I forgot to tell you," Sam started.

"What?"

"He's coming back for Thanksgiving."

"He is?"

"You know, with Finn back in Lima, Carole's kinda making a big deal of it."

Blaine didn't say anything as they entered the Biology classroom. He sat down, trying to ignore the churning of his stomach.

"You're gonna be okay? Should I have kept that a secret?" Sam asked quietly. Blaine shrugged.

"It's fine, Sam. It's just... it is what it is."

* * *

It was so strange being back in The Lima Bean after all this time. It wasn't really that long, but it felt like ages. So much had happened since he had last been in Lima. He felt like a completely different person.

He thanked the barista briefly as he grabbed a cardboard tray to carry the three coffees back home. He gave one last glance around the place. No familiar faces. The place was usually busier on Sundays. He guessed people didn't really want to brave the cold.

Kurt thanked the nice older man who held the door open for him, and walked out into the crisp, chilly mid morning.

"Crap," he said under his breath, shivering a little. He had to get his car keys out of his pocket. He stepped over to the nearest bench and sat down, putting the coffees down on the bench seat in the space between him and the person sitting on the other end.

He did a double-take.

"Blaine?"

The young man on the bench glanced around at him.

"Hi," Blaine said, looking slightly, but not overly, surprised.

"Hi," Kurt replied, sounding a bit more shocked than he would've liked.

Blaine relaxed visibly, as if he had been holding his breath. "You- are you back for Thanksgiving?"

"Um, yeah... my boss was nice enough to let me come earlier, to avoid the chaos in the airports. Her family lives in Columbus, so she knows how it is."

Blaine nodded again. Kurt stared at him, studying him. He didn't look any different.

"How have you been?" he asked. Blaine gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"Good."

"Really?"

"No. You?"

Kurt licked his lips. "I've been better."

Blaine stared intently at his coffee.

"I'm sorry that I didn't answer your calls," he finally said.

"Oh, so that was deliberate."

"I... was surprised. I didn't know what to say." Blaine shifted awkwardly in his seat. "I don't know what to say now, I didn't expect to see you, let alone have you talk to me."

"You're really going to therapy?" Kurt asked hesitantly. Blaine tensed.

"So you know?"

"You are, then?"

"Yeah."

"Are you medicated?"

Blaine nodded. "A little. It scared me at first, but it's actually been really helpful. I no longer feel so much like I'm continuously falling down a bottomless pit."

He sounded a little too light. Kurt suddenly had a lump in his throat.

"Is is that bad?"

Blaine finally met his eyes again, and they stared at each other painfully.

"Isn't it? I lost you."

Kurt felt the lump grow hotter and bigger as he watched Blaine try to keep his composure.

"You were the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I screwed that up. I need to understand why I did it, why I destroyed everything. Because I can't let it happen again. I've gotta fix things. I can't just sing a song anymore and make it right. We're past that," he said with a small, mirthless chuckle.

Kurt couldn't talk, but Blaine only paused for a moment, his face growing more and more painful.

"I know you probably can't trust me anymore, ever again; I don't trust myself, either. I've got to work on things. I might have a bigger problem, and I need to get to the root of it, so that I can get better."

"Blaine..." Kurt whispered, but he still didn't know what to say.

"I'm going to work on myself. I'm trying to do things right. I'll get better, I promise. And..."

Blaine suddenly looked away, like it was finally too much. His face contorted with pain and sadness, and he looked back at Kurt, the tears finally overflowing.

"I never meant to hurt you, Kurt," he said with great effort, his voice uneven. It was like a trigger for Kurt, who was suddenly crying as well. "I'm really sorry. I love you more than anything. I-"

He stopped talking, wiping the tears quickly and taking a long, shuddering breath, eyes closed.

"I can't do this right now," he said, shaking his head. "I want you back more than anything, but I can't ask you to take me back right now. Even if for some reason you would consider it, I wouldn't deserve it. I need to get better first. I need to do this right, so that you can hopefully forgive me someday, but only because I actually deserve your forgiveness. I need to deserve you again."

Kurt was crying freely now, quietly. He nodded in agreement, trying to find his voice. "Okay."

Blaine swallowed hard. He stared at Kurt for a moment, while trying to calm down.

"God, you're beautiful," he said softly.

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, crying even harder.

Blaine finally stood up, grabbing his empty coffee travel mug, and turned to Kurt. "It was really, really good to see you again," he said with a sad smile.

"You too," Kurt nodded.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Kurt."

Kurt watched Blaine walk away quickly toward his car, as if he were at risk of turning back.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Blaine," he said softly back, even though Blaine couldn't hear him anymore.

* * *

"Hey, buddy, what took you so long?" Burt's voice greeted Kurt as soon as he entered the house, accidentally slamming the door with his hip because his hands were full.

He followed the voice to the kitchen. Carole was doing the dishes and Burt was helping her with the drying. Kurt set the coffee tray on the breakfast table and sat down.

"Oh what happened? Why are you crying?" Burt asked as soon as he saw his son's face.

Kurt shook his head dismissively. "It's okay. I'm fine. I think."

Burt and Carole both stopped what they were doing and came around to him, somewhat alarmed.

"What happened?"

Kurt sighed deeply.

"I... ran into Blaine."

Burt's face turned stony. "Huh."

"Dad."

"No, no, I know. You're a grown man, you can take care of yourself. But just out of curiosity, should I go over and bash his head in, perhaps?"

"Burt," Carole muttered.

"No, nothing like that," Kurt replied, slightly touched by his father's protectiveness. He took a deep breath. "Blaine's been going to therapy."

Burt and Carole made the same, raised-eyebrow face.

"Wow," they said simultaneously.

"Yeah. Apparently he's been going since we..." Kurt swallowed hard. "He apologized, and he said he wanted me back, but he said that it's no longer a matter of singing a song to make me forgive him, it's something he has to work on for a while. So he's going to therapy."

Burt seemed at a loss for words. Carole interjected.

"Well, that's... very admirable of him. I mean, how many teenage boys seek professional help after a breakup."

"It's not just a breakup. He cheated on you," Burt said, sounding a bit annoyed.

"Dad."

"I mean, it's not like they're married or anything, but still... He broke your heart."

"I know," Kurt shrugged. "But I appreciate the fact that he's not taking this lightly."

"Yes," Carole said a little too enthusiastically. "It's good. Even if you might not get back together, he's being smart and sensitive and mature, and working on his problem... So mature for his age..." she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

Kurt nodded with her. "I know that I'm still hurt, but I can't help caring about him still, and worry about him. And if he's having problems, then I'm really glad that he's trying to do better."

"Of course," Carole said, rubbing her stepson's shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey, Kurt, these things take time, okay?" Burt said, no longer sounding so gruff. "Remember when you and I went to therapy, after your mom died? It's one step at a time."

Kurt looked at his father affectionately. He hadn't realized how much he had missed him.

"Yeah, I know."

There was a brief silence, before Carole cleared her throat.

"Um, Kurt, why don't you go rest while your father and I finish with the dishes? We better hurry, or the coffees will get cold."

She kissed the top of Kurt's head before heading back to the kitchen sink. Burt followed her. Kurt grabbed his coffee and headed toward the stairs. He stopped.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"If for some reason I do eventually forgive him, would you be okay with that?"

Burt hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before answering. He glanced at Carole for a moment, but she was suddenly very focused on scrubbing a pan.

"Look, I'm always gonna want to protect you, and I want what's best for you. But I know you're smart. Kinda stubborn, but really smart. At the end of the day, it's your decision. And I just want you to be happy." He pointed a warning finger at him. "No rush."

Kurt chuckled lightly. "Just curious," he said, before heading upstairs to his room.

* * *

_Two more chapters to go. And then I'm just gonna wait until Christmas, and Christmas better be EXCELLENT. (I'm talking to you, RIB & Co, I'm talking to you.)_

_Hope you liked it. Please review._

_-Valentina._


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter ran a lot longer than it should have. Also, I've been busy with work and holiday planning and helping a friend move. Also, writer's block._

_Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and FOX._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"I ran into Kurt on Sunday," Blaine said as soon as he sat down in Dr. Franco's office.

The doctor's face was comically blank as she stared at Blaine, gauging his calm expression.

"Where?"

"At the Lima Bean."

"The same Lima Bean where Eli works?"

"I don't think he works there anymore. Or at least I haven't seen him there since. Thankfully."

Dr. Franco nodded slowly.

"Did you talk to Kurt?"

Blaine exhaled loudly through his nose. "Yes. He already knew I had been going to therapy. My friend Sam kinda told him."

"And what did you talk about?"

"I might have... told him I still love him, and that I'm doing all of this, not just for myself, but hopefully so that he can forgive me," Blaine said, looking apologetic. He still had no idea if he had done himself more harm by being so honest to Kurt about everything. He was sure Dr. Franco would tell him that he should focus more on his well-being first, and then on going about fixing his relationship, or just moving on. But Dr. Franco smiled.

"And what did he say?"

"He was... crying..." Blaine said sadly, remembering the look on Kurt's face. "But he didn't tell me to shut up or go away. And he didn't leave either. He... he listened."

"Can we take that as a good sign, then?"

"I guess so," Blaine said with a small smile.

* * *

Since it was Thanksgiving weekend, that would be their only session that week. So Dr. Franco left Blaine a little homework: she told him to think about his future plans, whether they were short-term or long-term, anything he wanted to accomplish.

Blaine had been thinking about that since the previous week, when Sam asked him if he was applying to NYADA. Come to think of it, he had never really mentioned it before, but everyone had assumed that, since Kurt had been bent on enrolling there (and probably still was), then Blaine would most likely follow suit the next year. To be quite honest, Blaine had assumed that too. He hadn't even looked at any schools yet. All he had cared about was getting to New York and being there with Kurt.

But everything, absolutely everything was up in the air now.

And Blaine didn't even know if he was in the right mindset for school applications and life plans. Up until recently, they had all revolved around Kurt.

They still did. In a way.

"How can anyone expect me to know what I want to do with my life at 18?" he asked bitterly.

Dr. Franco shrugged. "You know, I asked myself that same question in my senior year. The truth is, no one knows; even people who claim to know, they don't. Things change along the way, we grow, we learn. So some of us realize that we landed our dream job from the start, and some of us didn't. There's no guarantee, unfortunately. But we try to learn from your experiences and mistakes, don't we? And that's how we navigate through life. There's no 'undoing', only 'doing'."

"Wow, that makes me so happy and fulfilled," Blaine said sarcastically. She raised an eyebrow.

"You don't have to do it, if you don't want to. You could just lie in a big puddle of self-deprecation and bitterness until the end of your days," she said stoically.

Blaine bit his lip. He didn't know if she was talking about the 'homework' or the 'growth and learning'. But he shouldn't have made a sarcastic remark to the person who had already helped him so much.

"I'm sorry, I just... I've been having a harder time since... Seeing him again, I just feel like any progress I might have made has gone out the window if I can't even look at him without wanting to jump into incoming traffic."

He took a shuddering breath, trying to keep his voice even. But a couple of tears betrayed him, rolling down his cheeks. He sniffed loudly and reached for a tissue.

"The last two times we've actually talked face to face, he has cried, and it kills me to know that I did that. And I just keep thinking, 'screw growth, how do I undo everything?' I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from making such a stupid mistake. I want to undo his broken heart and mine."

"But you can't. Even if it was possible, you shouldn't," Dr. Franco said. "If anyone had the power to go back in time and change things, people would end up changing so many things in their past that they might as well just start over from scratch. There will always be little things, tiny mistakes, that we want to strike off the record. But it would just change everything, even the things we don't want to change."

Blaine wiped his nose and nodded. "I know."

"People linger too long on the things that they wish they could undo, instead of seeing the positive outcomes," she continued. "So consider this: if things hadn't happened this way, you might never have come to terms with the fact that you have self-esteem issues and a lingering depression, you might never have dealt with it properly, and it might have surfaced again in a much more unpleasant way in the future, and you'd still be in the same position."

Blaine breathed out slowly, calming down.

"If you believe in providence, karma, the law of cause and effect, whatever you want to call it, you know that everything happens for a reason," Dr. Franco added. "You and Kurt met because you were meant to, and you had a fallout because you were meant to realize how much you needed to find yourself, to be whole as an individual. And once you have, you can really appreciate how much Kurt really means to you, how far you are willing to go for him, for the two of you."

* * *

That night, he tried starting Dr. Franco's assignment right away; it would soon be Thanksgiving break, and his family would be here, and he'd be stuck at home surrounded by people, pretending to be okay.

Instead, he dug out "When Harry Met Sally" and Margaret Thatcher Dog from the bottom of his nightstand drawer (where he had hoped they wouldn't taunt him with their presence ever again) and curled up on his bed to watch for the umpteenth time, with the stuffed dog squished against his chest.

He cried through most of it. Even the funniest parts, like Billy Crystal's best dark humor lines or Meg Ryan's fake orgasm, had him blubbering into a box of tissues. Because all he could think about was the many times he and Kurt had watched that film together. It was their thing, their little inside joke. _They_ were supposed to be Harry and Sally.

"_...takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." _

Blaine switched off the movie and all but chucked the remote at the TV. This was a bad idea.

As he got ready for bed, he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, examining his own face. He felt older. Worn and older. He was only eighteen.

He crawled into bed, hugging Margaret Thatcher Dog under the blankets, waiting patiently until he fell asleep. He wasn't in the mood to write on his journal. He just kept thinking about what Dr. Franco had said, about things happening for a reason. It led to thinking about 'what if things had been different'.

There were so many things that could have gone so differently in his life, or simply not have happened at all; Dalton, McKinley, being bullied, Kurt...

So it wasn't so strange that he dreamt that night that he was back in Dalton, back in his sophomore year, and as he headed for an impromptu performance he had planned with the Warblers, he didn't forget his phone in the library, and he didn't have to go back for it, and thus he wasn't running late.

So he headed downstairs with the rest of the students, and calmly walked down the spiral staircase, and made it to the common room without delay. He sang and danced confidently with his fellow Warblers, to an arrangement he had come up with for Katy Perry's 'Teenage dream', while the other students cheered and danced along.

However, he performed with less vigor and charm and enthusiasm than he could originally remember.

Because there was no one to sing it to.

* * *

Wednesday night, Thanksgiving was already panning out to be just like it was every year.

His mom and her sisters-in-law would fuss endlessly over the food. His father and the uncles would revert into gadget freak-mode, and talk all night about technology and compare smartphones. And his cousins, all younger than him, would be in some corner, clicking away on some Nintendo DS game.

The only people he really enjoyed seeing were his grandparents: Grandpa Todd, the proud patriarch, whom Blaine and Cooper had always greeted with a hearty "oh Captain, my Captain!", was a dapper, white-haired version of Cooper, just as amusing but less delusional, and always in a good mood.

Meanwhile, his grandmother, a stately lady who looked beautiful even with her well-worn face and grey hair, would sit calmly by the fireplace, observing everyone and smiling pleasantly, like a lovely home-version of Dame Maggie Smith.

So obviously she noticed when Blaine was quietly trying to stay out of everyone's way. Nana always insisted on knowing what was wrong with him, like there was always something wrong with him.

(This time she was right.)

"Blaine, darling, how are you doing at school?" was how she usually opened.

"Fine, Nana," he replied briefly. He loved his grandmother, but he didn't want to talk right now, at all.

"Have you applied to any colleges yet?"

"Haven't gotten around to it. I'm still figuring out what I want to do."

"I thought you wanted to act, like your brother."

"I actually wanted to perform in musical theatre. I just don't know what I want anymore."

"Is everything okay, dear?"

"I'm fine, Nana, I just... I've been having a hard time..." He sighed. "I just got dumped. That's all."

Nana gave him a sympathetic look, while she thought of what to say.

"Oh well, cheer up. You're a good boy. And there's plenty of fish in the sea."

"No, there isn't, Nana. There was just one. And I let him go."

He knew his family avoided the use pronouns in relation to Blaine, since he came out. Blaine noticed this, because they also did that with Annette, his father's second cousin, who lived in Belgium with her wife and kids and had lost touch with the family years ago.

Nana looked a little unsettled for a moment, but then she patted his cheek gently and smiled, until he feebly smiled back. She let the subject go and commented on the weather. Blaine sighed again.

* * *

Cooper arrived on Thanksgiving morning, a jolt of unexpected energy.

Blaine had never been this happy to see him. As soon as he saw him on the doorstep, he launched himself into his brother's arms.

"Whoa, are you okay, B? They haven't made you play charades, have they?"

Blaine only hugged him harder. He was still the same old Cooper, and that's something that Blaine really needed right now.

Cooper set up in Blaine's room, since his old room had already been taken by their aunt and uncle and the cousins visiting from Massachusetts, and the guest room was occupied by their grandparents.

After breakfast with the family, he plopped down on Blaine's bed and put his arms behind his head.

"How have you been, Squirt?" he asked.

"Fine."

"Yeah right." Cooper's smile disappeared. "I heard things went bust with your boyfriend?"

"That's one way to put it."

"Mom says you've been going to therapy."

"Took me long enough."

"What happened?"

"I cheated on him."

Cooper snorted.

"You?" he asked, grinning at him as if waiting for the punchline. Blaine squeezed the stuffed dog harder. Cooper was suddenly uncharacteristically serious.

"Why?" he asked, perplexed. "I thought you loved him. I would assume you had realized that you were basically perfect for each other."

Blaine glared at him. Cooper should know by now to try to be a bit more supportive. Same old Cooper.

"Why do you care?" Blaine replied bitterly. "You're barely around. You didn't even know him."

Cooper shook his head. "But I saw you with him. I've talked to you since then, I know how you are when you're with him. A mushy puppy with cartoon heart-shaped eyes. But also, like, really happy."

Blaine rolled his eyes, already feeling his face growing hotter, and he turned his whole body around to face away, feet firmly on the floor, ready to bolt if Cooper made another tactless jab.

"Why would you cheat on him?" Cooper asked, his voice gentler. Blaine shook his head slowly, staring hard at the floor.

"I wish I knew," he said with a shrug.

"Oh baby bro..." Cooper sighed.

Blaine wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a disappointed sigh, or sympathetic, or whatever. But admittedly it was the first time that he felt like someone in his family actually cared, and he Blaine's breath hitched and the tears pooling in his eyes started rolling down his face, and he really didn't want Cooper to see him like this, but he couldn't keep himself from shaking with quiet sobs. He heard his brother shifting in the bed and Cooper was quickly next to him, an arm around Blaine's shoulders.

"Hey..." Cooper said, rubbing his brother's arm comfortingly. "It's gonna be okay."

"Is it?"

"Yeah," Cooper said matter-of-factly. "You're gonna be okay. Come on! You're an Anderson. You can do anything you set your mind to. And if you want him back, you go get him."

Blaine snorted between sobs.

"No, seriously. You don't give up. If Kurt is every bit as wonderful as you described him, then you don't let him go. You find the way to get him back." He looked at his brother earnestly. "You're a great guy, B, and even if you made a mistake, you deserve to be happy with a guy just as great as you."

Blaine managed a small smile. He had never expected this kind of support from the elusive brother. Maybe he wasn't just the same old Cooper anymore.

Cooper watched him fixedly, grinning idiotically, until Blaine finally gave in and chuckled a little.

"Besides, between you and me, I think you're mom's only hope for a wedding or grandchildren," Cooper finally said.

* * *

It was thanks to Cooper's presence that Blaine survived Thanksgiving dinner, the bland conversation and occasional stupid arguments.

There was a glint in both their eyes as they glanced at each other when Grandpa Todd finished saying grace, and they simultaneously stood up and exclaimed "Oh Captain! My Captain!", making everyone laugh while Grandpa Todd pretended to be annoyed.

Cooper always had some heftily ridiculous story to tell, whether it had to do with his acting pursuits or just general misadventures in his daily life. There was one story in particular, involving a mariachi quartet, a young couple on their honeymoon and a chance encounter with Christopher Walken, that made Blaine nearly spit out his cider, and he realized he hadn't laughed so hard in a very long time. Cooper winked at him, as if it were all for his benefit.

After the turkey-induced stupor wore off, when everyone else had rolled into bed, the brothers had an old-fashioned sleepover, with Disney movies, chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott's Every-Flavored Beans that Cooper purchased on his last trip to Universal Studios (before he got banned).

"Ugh, I still get so stressed out when Beast is so defeated that he won't fight back against Gaston," Cooper said through a mouthful of chocolate, gesturing angrily at the screen during the climax of _Beauty and the Beast_. "It's like, if only he had told Belle that he loved her... I mean, how else was she supposed to know? Then she would've realized that she loved him too, in spite of what he had done."

Blaine looked at him out of the corner of his eye and sighed. "Yeah..." he said, not knowing if he should be annoyed or amused by his brother's rant. He settled for encouraged.

* * *

The next morning, Blaine opened his bleary eyes to find Cooper was gone. He sighed loudly, settling back on the pillows, willing himself to move. Black friday was already shaping up to be pretty bleak.

He saw something out of the corner of his eye. His journal sat on top of Cooper's pillow. Blaine sat up fast, wondering if Cooper had been so bold as to read it.

Just then, his phone beeped with an incoming message.

_Courage._

"Troll," Blaine muttered angrily, glaring at the text from his brother. There was another beep.

_No, I didn't read your journal. What do you take me for? You told me once how you and Kurt met, and I remembered. I remember stuff, you know._

Blaine shook his head and smiled.

* * *

Sectionals were a blur. Blaine felt underrehearsed and unenthused, but no one said anything about it; he knew they were all purposely cutting him some slack because of his 'situation'.

All the old members of New Directions came by. They were all in town for Thanksgiving, and they went to see the new New Directions perform at Sectionals. They were all there.

Except Kurt and Rachel.

"Kurt had to go back to New York because of his job," Sam informed him. Finn would awkwardly avoid looking or talking to him, like he felt he would be betraying his step-brother if he did.

Blaine was usually excited and nervous and frantic before a performance; now he was just going through the motions. Was he acting robotic? That wouldn't be the medication's fault; that'd be his own.

He just really didn't want to disappoint the others, but when their turn came, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep up.

In the end, it was something completely different that derailed the performance.

"Marley? Marley!" Tina exclaimed over the roar of the crowd as New Directions finished their first song. The others turned to the source of the commotion.

Marley had fainted. She was out like a light before they could start the second song on their set; she had nearly hit her head on the edge of the highest tier. Ryder, Jake and Sam picked her up and quickly carried her off the stage.

"Oh my god, is she okay?" cried Kitty in a high-pitched voice.

"SHUT UP, KITTY!" Jake bellowed. "You're the one that did this to her, I know it!"

There was a lot of confusion backstage. Mr. Schue called the paramedics over, and there was a crowd of people fussing over Marley. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine caught a glimpse of Mrs. Rose standing up and desperately start making her way to the aisle. The curtain fell.

Marley regained consciousness slowly. She looked pale and dizzy and she was covered in cold sweat. Her classmates breathed a sigh of relief. The paramedics put her on a gurney and started wheeling her away, to take her to the hospital for testing. An agitated Mrs. Rose caught up with them, and soon they heard the siren of an ambulance getting further away.

Blaine breathed heavily. He remembered Kurt telling him about another very dramatic moment for New Directions during a competition, when Quinn went into labor before they could even learn if they had won or lost. Apparently it was a karmic tradition.

He immediately pushed Kurt out of his mind.

Jake and Ryder got into a heated argument with each other and then with Kitty, with Mr. Schue having to intervene. The graduates joined New Directions backstage and watched, appalled. Blaine rolled his eyes. What was is with this group? Not since Mercedes defected to the Troubletones, followed by 60% of the girls in the glee club, had New Directions felt so disbanded.

Mr. Schue managed to shut them up, just as one of the organizers came over to talk to them.

"The judges had a talk about this and came to a sort of agreement," the man started. "You didn't finish your performance, so that would usually mean you get disqualified instantly. However," he added, just as most of the kids' faces fell like a ton of bricks, "taking into consideration the score you had gotten thus far, and the fact that you are the reigning champions from Nationals, you get to advance to Regionals by default. You are tied with the Warblers."

New Directions blew a sigh of relief. Blaine just stared around.

"This is a one-time concession," the man added.

"Thank you, sir," Mr. Schue said, just as the man walked away.

Ryder rounded up on Kitty again.

"This is all your fault!"

"My fault? Are you deaf as well as stupid? He just said we won," Kitty bit back.

"You made Marley believe she was gaining weight and you turned her into a bulimic. Just like you," Ryder seethed. Kitty raised an eyebrow.

"I turned her into a bulimic? Excuse me, I didn't force her own fingers down her throat. She didn't have to do or believe anything I said. It's not my fault she's a poor, poor gullible twerp."

"But you didn't have to take advantage of that! She could've been seriously injured when she fell. In fact, she could have some kind of permanent damage from what she's been doing to herself."

"Are you learning all those big words in your 'special classes', Ryder?"

"ENOUGH!"

Kitty jumped at Mr. Schuester's voice. Blaine hadn't seen Mr. Schue this angry since they lip-synched in the school assembly.

"This is an official competition, and we haven't worked this hard all these years to have you damage the reputation of this Glee club with your meaningless rivalries and your temper tantrums."

He turned to Jake and Ryder. "Guys, Marley is going to be alright, we'll make sure of that. But she's going to need your support, not your bickering with each other all the time."

Ryder and Jake glanced at each other momentarily.

"I guess this could've gone a lot worse," Mr. Schue muttered. "If we really want to recover from this, we'll have to make sure to put on a great performance for Regionals. The Warblers are still our fiercest competition, and we don't know which other club we could be up against then."

The kids all nodded.

"Oh, and Kitty?" Mr. Schue said. "You're off New Directions."

Fifteen pairs of eyes grew as wide as saucers, staring between the teacher and the cheerleader.

Kitty's face turned stony. "You're kicking me out?"

"I have no choice. You jeopardized the life of one of your fellow members, and that's inexcusable."

Kitty opened her mouth to protest, but Mr. Schue lifted a hand to silence her.

"I know you didn't force her to do anything, but you had a big hand on it by toying with her innocence and good nature. You are a bad influence, and we're not having that in this club."

The blonde girl stared around at the unsympathetic faces staring right back. She glared menacingly at all of them, even at Mr. Schue himself.

"You'll be sorry for this," she said in a low voice, before turning contemptuously away and walking off.

"Wow," Joe said after a long silence.

"Please tell me I was never as bad as that," Quinn said.

"Well, I don't think you ever landed anyone in the hospital," Santana grinned at her.

* * *

New Directions bough some flowers for Marley and paid her a brief visit, to let her know that, in spite of what had happened, they still got to advance to Regionals. Knowing Marley, she would be beating herself up over it.

The doctors in the ER had already done most of the tests on her by the time the kids got there. Mrs. Rose was glad they came; she needed to go home and get some things for Marley, and she didn't want to leave her daughter alone even for a moment.

Only one person at a time was allowed to be in the ER with Marley, so they took turns going in to see her. Blaine hoped he wasn't trembling too noticeably. He really, really hated hospitals.

He almost made an excuse to leave before it was his turn, but his mind immediately jumped to Cooper's text, and Dr. Franco, and Kurt. He took a deep breath, ignoring the coldness and the aseptic smell, and walked in. He found Marley in the second room, still looking a bit pale, but not as ghostly as she had in the auditorium. She smiled brightly at him, her big blue eyes watery.

"Hi, Blaine," she said. Blaine did his best to smile back.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he said, feeling his mouth dry.

"A little better. Tired and dizzy, but they said I'll be okay. They're just doing a few tests to make sure."

Blaine nodded. Marley sighed.

"I didn't expect you to be here. You really didn't have to. I know you haven't been well yourself."

He smiled faintly. "I'll be okay. I'm feeling a little better myself."

Marley's face split in a big grin. "Really? That's great."

Blaine smiled back and shifted awkwardly in his chair. She watched him worriedly.

"You look a little like you're going to throw up, though."

"I'm fine. I just..." he swallowed hard, "I really hate hospitals."

"Oh yeah, I hate them too."

Blaine shook his head. "No, I really, _really_ hate them," he emphasized. "Let's just say I have a very unpleasant memory of one of them."

"Oh," she blinked at him. Blaine shrugged and forced a smile.

"It's just one of the issues I mentioned that I have to work on."

She reached for one of Blaine's hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her hand was icy cold.

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you're doing great. You have actually made me feel a lot better about my fear of hospitals."

"Good to know," he said, smiling more authentically now. He no longer felt nauseated.

* * *

_Blaine sat up in bed when he heard a knock on the door. Kurt appeared, looking forlorn and worn._

"_How was he?" Blaine asked. Kurt sighed as he closed the door behind him. He looked like he had done some crying. _

"_Wrecked. At least he said they're taking him off the 72-hour watch."_

_Blaine stood up quickly and pulled Kurt into a hug. _

"_It's gonna be so hard for him," Kurt mumbled into Blaine's shoulder. _

"_He's gonna be fine," Blaine replied, stroking Kurt's hair. "Are you okay?"_

_Kurt sniffed loudly and shook his head. "I hate hospitals. The smell reminds me of when my mom was sick. I felt like I spent a lifetime in that room."_

"_I'm sorry. I should've gone with you."_

"_No, it's okay. You hate them too."_

_They crawled into bed together, arms wrapped around each other comfortingly. _

"_We'll get over it, right?" Blaine asked. Kurt let out a long stream of air out his nose. _

"_As soon as we can go to a hospital for an actual happy occasion. Like a baby."_

"_Whose baby?" Blaine glanced down at Kurt questioningly, a hint of a smile on his lips. Kurt half-smiled too._

"_I don't know," he shrugged. "Like if Finn and Rachel do get married and start making them right away, then I'll become an uncle."_

"_That would be the most fashionable baby ever, with an uncle like you."_

"_You bet," Kurt winked._

_They stayed like that for a little while, and Blaine felt Kurt's tension ebbing away, his limbs loosening, his breathing more relaxed. _

"_Feeling better?" he whispered. Kurt nodded._

"_Now I do."_

_Blaine kissed the top of his head and closed his eyes._

* * *

"Sugar Motta is throwing New Directions an End of the World/Christmas party on Friday 21st, appropriately, and Old Directions are invited as well," Kurt said, checking his e-mail on his phone.

Rachel glanced up from her half-packed suitcase and grabbed Kurt's iPhone from his hand.

"She did not write 'Old Directions'. Did she write 'Old Directions'? Ooh, I'm gonna punch her in the nose."

"Whoa! What's with the aggression?"

Rachel handed him back the phone and sighed.

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous about going back home, and possibly seeing Finn again."

"You? What about me? My last encounter with Blaine left me an emotional wreck all Thanksgiving. I didn't even have the will to partake in Black Friday. How much more pathetic can I get?"

He plopped down on Rachel's bed, beside her open suitcase and stared at the ceiling absently. Rachel stopped packing for a moment and sat down beside him.

"You know what we should do? We should go to Sugar's party," she started. "Finn might go, and Blaine will most likely be there too. But you know what? That's okay. Because then we can hang out and try to move on from the awkwardness once and for all. The anxiety is killing me. Look, I'm going to start breaking out soon."

She pointed at a spot on her chin. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, fine. Just because I want to see everyone else."

* * *

Blaine was the last to arrive at Sugar's party. He gave in after being bombarded with text messages from Sam.

_Where are you?_

_I'm wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that Mrs. Hudson gave to me. I look like a stud._

_Seriously, what's taking you so long?_

_If you don't show up soon, I'm gonna kiss you with my trouty mouth under every mistletoe I find until New Year's eve._

_That wasn't me. That was Santana who texted that._

_Dude, seriously, you're not coming?_

_Come on, Kurt's not even here!_

_Oh wait, he just got here._

_Sorry, he had said something earlier about having to go shopping, I thought he wasn't coming._

_But so what? If he showed up, you should too._

_Look, you can't just skip on the party. It's New Directions! We're all here! _

_Sugar will never talk to you again if you don't show up. She just told me._

_You can't bail on us just because you don't want to run into your ex-boyfriend. _

_By the way, he just asked about you._

Before he could stop himself, Blaine had thrown his coat on, checked his hair and his teeth, grabbed a Christmas present, and headed out.

* * *

The party was already in full swing. Sugar's sprawling home was lavishly decorated, with a huge Christmas tree in the living room, but the area designated for the party looked more like a New Year's Eve/Mexican/Mayan theme party. There were sombreros and Mayan masks, which Blaine took to mean that Sugar had done research on the whole Mayan calendar thing but she hadn't done a very good job.

It was an odd scene: most of the guys had a sombrero on and the girls wore feather headdresses, and they all had fancy cocktails in their hands (hopefully virgin cocktails, or else Blaine was definitively leaving) and playing with sparklers and dancing to disturbing tribal drumming music.

"Blaine Anderson, you came!" Sugar shouted upon seeing him. She had a pair of huge gold-plated earrings and an impressive gold-plated headdress (which Blaine was pretty sure was actually Incan, not Mayan). She hugged him and pulled him along. "Come! Come! Oh, I'm so glad you finally arrived!"

"Hey Blaine!" Sam shouted. He was wearing a sombrero. Brittany hugged him. The kids from New Directions greeted him normally, while Old Directions were a bit odd. Puck was glaring at him.

Blaine spotted Kurt across the room, talking with Santana and Rachel and Quinn, and he immediately felt his throat go dry and his heart thump faster.

Everyone seemed to stop talking just then, and Blaine could feel all eyes on him. Sam suddenly appeared beside him.

"Hey, come on, it's going to be okay," he whispered, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Just then, Kurt looked up and saw him, and blushed. Blaine felt like his insides disappeared.

"Blaine! Hi!" Rachel said, noticing him as well. Her voice sounded forcibly pleasant.

"Hi," Blaine said sheepishly, waving at them all.

"Hi," Kurt said. Santana and Quinn looked at each other pointedly.

"I was surprised that you were able to come for Christmas as well," Blaine's voice came out unevenly.

"Well, it was a surprise to me too. It was my boss Isabelle's Christmas gift to me," Kurt replied.

"That's great."

"How have you been, Blaine?" Rachel asked in an overly sympathetic tone.

"Um, better, thank you. I'm... working on it."

There was a very uncomfortable silence all of a sudden.

"Oh well, I've gotta go-"

"I need some more of this drink-"

"Hey, Rachel, tell me about NYADA and stuff and your-"

"But-"

Santana and Quinn excused themselves, and Sam dragged Rachel over to the food table, while she glanced apologetically over her shoulder at Kurt.

For a moment, Kurt and Blaine just stood there, not saying anything, not even looking at each other.

"I, um... I brought you your Christmas present," Blaine started nervously, pulling a small package from his jacket pocket, wrapped in green paper with a golden bow. "You don't have to open it now, though. In fact, I prefer you wouldn't."

Kurt watched him in confusion.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"I- I know, but... I wanted to."

There was a silence, as Blaine held the present toward Kurt. Kurt just stared at it and didn't take it.

Blaine swallowed hard. "You don't want it."

Kurt's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "I'm still kind of reeling from the last one you gave me," he said in a very small voice, before turning away. Blaine took a deep breath and gulped.

"Kurt, wait! Can we-" He hesitated. "Um, could we at least talk for a moment? In private?"

Kurt crossed his arms stiffly and just stood still for a moment. He finally nodded, as if trying to convince himself of something as well. He walked over to the set of doors that led to a huge roofed terrace, and Blaine followed without a word, ignoring the many sets of eyes following them.

It was cold, and neither had their coat on. Kurt stood with his back to him, staring at the snowy lushness of the Mottas's garden. Blaine stood beside him.

"Please take it," he said softly, hesitantly, nudging at Kurt's hand gently with the corner of the small package. "Even if you don't want it. But I hope that you have a look at it, and-"

"And what?"

The tone wasn't harsh. It was actually heartbreakingly soft. Blaine swallowed.

"And... it helps you understand what I have so much trouble saying."

"You can't be honest with me anymore?"

"Yes, yes I can... but I don't know, I don't know-"

"What don't you know?"

Blaine licked his lips. "I really don't know if you even trust me anymore. I don't know if you would ever believe me."

"And you understand why I wouldn't, don't you?"

"Yes," Blaine responded meekly. His heart skipped a beat as Kurt slowly turned toward him and actually looked at him again. Timidly, he took the package from Blaine and stared down at it for a moment. There was no card or tag; everything that Blaine would like to say would never fit into a card.

"Just... just don't throw it away. It would mean a lot to me if you would at least have a look at it."

Kurt looked at him again for a long moment, like he was testing to see how long he could look at him.

"Look, I've been thinking..." he started breathlessly. "Ever since Thanksgiving week, I've done nothing but think. About everything."

Blaine swallowed hard when a tear finally escaped Kurt's left eye.

"And I wish I could stop. I wish I could just not think about you and everything, because I can't keep going like this. I can't concentrate, I don't function properly anymore. I don't sleep well, I don't work well, even sitting around doing absolutely nothing is impossible."

"Me too. That's why I got help. I knew I had basically hit rock bottom when I- I betrayed you, the most important person in my life, and I needed to-"

He reined in his breath, his emotions; he needed to speak out, but if this was perhaps his only chance to do it, then he didn't want to mess it up by making absolutely no sense. He was feeling better, he was feeling more confident, and he wanted more than anything for Kurt to finally hear the truth.

"I want to tell you everything. Everything that happened, everything that you already knew, and some things that I just started seeing from a different perspective. I need to open up to you again. I need you. Not in the way that I used to need anyone, not in a bad way. I- I long for you."

As Blaine spoke, Kurt visibly shuddered. Blaine needed to get it all out; he felt like his chest would burst.

"I... I still love you, so very much. I've always loved you, and I don't think I'll ever stop. And I don't want to stop. And- and I know that what I did is- there was no excuse, there never will be. And I know that maybe you don't love me anymore, or you can't. But... do you think you could ever forgive me, at least?"

There was an excruciating moment as Kurt took a deep breath, glancing away from Blaine several times before he found his voice.

"I do love you. I still do," Kurt began calmly. "And I want to forgive you... But I can't. Not now."

Blaine gritted his teeth in an attempt to keep his composure, but he was pretty sure his face betrayed the sudden need to cry.

"Maybe someday?" he asked in a trembling voice. Kurt eventually nodded.

"Maybe."

Blaine pressed his lips together, taking in a shuddering breath. He nodded slowly.

"Then... that's just something I have to live with... I just wish I knew how."

Kurt twisted his body away, like he was recoiling from something painful. He wrapped his arms around his body and sniffed loudly.

"Stop it," he said, his voice suddenly completely broken. "Look, you're working on your issues, and I'm glad you are. And I hope that you're okay one day. But I'm not. And I don't have a doctor or pills to help me along to get better. All I have is this horrible pain in my chest that reminds me that I'm somehow still alive, that I didn't really die that night that you-"

The tears were flowing freely now. Blaine stared in utter shock, in helplessness, as Kurt struggled to keep talking.

"I have to do this on my own, take it one day at a time, try to forget little by little that the person I love the most, for whatever reason... tossed me aside. Even for just a moment... like I didn't really mean as much as I had thought."

A sob racked his body suddenly, and he dropped down onto the nearest bench, still hugging himself.

"I haven't felt this miserable since... since my mom died, or maybe since my dad was in a coma," he whispered. "I don't know if you know what it's like to lose the most important people in your life. Feels like the world is ending."

Blaine nodded automatically. It pretty much felt like his world was ending right that instant.

Kurt wiped his face.

"I have to go," he said hoarsely, turning toward the door.

"Wait, Kurt, please-"

Blaine placed a hand lightly on Kurt's sleeve.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, I really am," Kurt said, squirming away from Blaine's touch.

"Just- just please promise me that you will open your present, okay?"

Kurt didn't say anything. He looked down at the packaged still clutched in his hand and sighed.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine," he said, glancing briefly at him before opening the door. Blaine watched him go.

"Merry Christmas, Kurt."

* * *

There was a profound silence, a stillness once Blaine was alone. Or maybe he couldn't hear anything beyond the sudden numbness in his head, in his lungs, after he heard the door close behind Kurt. He was rooted to the spot, gaze fixated on the snowed panorama, and it was a long moment before he felt a presence nearby. Rachel and Sam were there, watching him.

"Please don't say anything," he finally whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Please come inside. You'll freeze out here," Rachel coaxed him gently, brow furrowed in concern.

"It's okay, I don't even notice it."

"Please come inside," Rachel repeated. "It's nice and warm and no one will say anything, I promise."

"Thanks, but I think I should go home too."

"No, don't leave. Please stay. For a little while. You can't drive out there in your state."

"You let Kurt drive off, he was pretty upset too," Sam murmured.

"You didn't stop him either!" Rachel hissed, annoyed. She sighed. "He'll be fine."

Blaine didn't go inside. Rachel left after a moment, but Sam stayed. Blaine didn't want to tell him to leave, but he really wanted to be alone for a bit. He wished he had stayed at home.

"Are you okay?" Sam finally asked.

"I think we've made it clear that I'm not."

"You said you were getting better."

"I think I'm actually just stuck."

"He'll come around."

"No, he won't. I killed us."

"That's a bit melodramatic."

"I'm being realistic. He's never going to forgive me."

"Yes, he will. He just needs time." Sam stood in front of Blaine. "Look, we all know you guys are, like, meant to be. I'm sure he knows that too. I mean, you guys are like Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka."

Blaine frowned in confusion. Sam shrugged.

"Sorry, that's the only famous gay couple I can reference, but you get what I mean. You're ridiculously perfect for each other, so it's only logical. Don't ask me how I know, but I know you guys are going to get married and get famous, and you're gonna have kids and spend the rest of your lives together. If the world doesn't end tonight, of course."

Blaine chuckled. He hadn't thought he had any good humor left in him.

"This is just, you know, a delay on being with your soulmate," Sam added with another shrug.

Blaine peered at him curiously. "I never took you for someone who believed in things like soulmates."

"I didn't," Sam shook his head. "You guys kinda changed my mind, though."

* * *

Kurt climbed into his car and shut the door and just sat there, breathing hard and calming himself. He put Blaine's present in the seat next to him and tried to ignore it.

He fished for tissues in the glove compartment, and started the car to warm it up.

"_... don't care about the presents/ Underneath the Christmas tree/ I just want you for my own/ More than you could ever know/ Make my wish come true/ You know that all I want for Christmas is y-"_

Michael Bublè's crooning was interrupted by Kurt pressing on the pause button angrily.

He had been listening to some Christmas playlists he and Rachel had put together, to get into the holiday spirit, but he was sick of it already. Right now he just couldn't listen to any more songs about coming home for Christmas. He suddenly wished he hadn't.

So he set his iPod to shuffle and put the car in 'drive', pulling out of Sugar's driveway.

He drove too fast for the state of the roads, but he got home safe and sound. His knuckles hurt a bit from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

There was no one home yet. Finn and Sam were still at the party, and his dad and Carole were attending a Christmas dinner. Kurt wasn't sure if it was a relief to have some alone time now, or if it would just make him more miserable.

He was about to turn off the car, when a familiar song started playing.

"_You think I'm pretty without any make up on/ You think I'm funny when I tell the punchline wrong/ I know you get me so I let my walls come down/ Down..."_

Admittedly the original Katy Perry version had never done much for him, but it still had the power to make a lot of unwanted memories suddenly flood him, and he couldn't help but smile a little.

For a moment he was that unhappy boy wandering nervously down the spiral staircase at Dalton Academy, unknowingly about to tap the shoulder of the person who would change his life. He was standing once again, 'sticking out like a sore thumb', in the common room, while a boy in uniform basically sang to him after having known him for less than a fully minute.

Kurt cradled his head in his hands and took a deep breath. He reached over to the brightly wrapped package from Blaine, finally examining it closely.

It was small and light and hard, and wrapped in simple, bright red wrapping paper. He tore it off carefully, and stared down at the black moleskine notebook. Why would Blaine give him a moleskine?

Blaine wouldn't just give him an empty moleskine.

Which meant that this one already contained something.

He opened it with trembling fingers, landing on a random page somewhere in the middle.

Blaine's handwriting was scrawled across the page, messily, hurriedly.

_I love his eyes._

_I love the way he closes his eyes just before he starts singing._

_I love the sound of his voice._

_I love how he always says what's on his mind._

_I love how brave he is._

_I love the sound of his laugh._

_I love the way he loves._

_I love that he makes me feel special._

The last word was slightly smudged, like a drop of water had landed on the paper as he'd been writing.

* * *

Kurt settled in his room, relishing the quiet in the house. He probably still had a couple of hours before anyone would get home.

Blaine's journal was full of free-writing exercises, one-sentence entries, poems or songs, some doodles, and a few letters. Kurt often had to stop reading or he would start crying again.

_I can't sleep well._

_I can't stop thinking about what I did and the look on his face when I told him what I did, and I had the nerve to try to blame it on him, what was I thinking? How could I do that? How could I have done something so awful and disgusting and stupid? _

_I miss him._

_I hate myself._

_Every day that passes, I forget a little bit more how he smells. _

Kurt sniffed loudly. He had that same sensation every once in a while.

Before he could stop himself, he put the notebook to his nose and inhaled deeply. It mostly smelled like just paper, but maybe his imagination was playing tricks on him, but he thought he got a hint of Blaine's cologne.

_Why didn't I book the tickets earlier? Why didn't I ignore that message? Why didn't I just call him again later?_

_I'm getting better. I don't feel like I want to die anymore. But it still hurts so much._

_I miss the sound of his voice._

_I still hate myself._

_I feel a little better every day. _

_I saw him today, and it was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. More painful than anything I've experienced all this time. He was so close, and all I wanted to do was hug him and kiss him and beg him to love me again. But I don't have that right anymore._

_Nina said something today about fate and providence. Everything happens for a reason. And last night I dreamed that I never met him. What would my life be like right now if I had never met him? _

_"__I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."_

_I want to become a performer. _

_I want to act and sing and dance, and write and direct. _

_I want to create things. _

_I want the love of my life back._

_I want my best friend back._

_How do I get you back?_

_How do I earn the right to have you in my life again? _

Inevitably, Kurt was crying again.

_Once there was a boy who was so in love with another boy that he thought he was dreaming. _

_That dream was so beautiful and perfect that he didn't care if it wasn't real, but he was constantly afraid he would just wake up and it would all go away._

_And then one day it did. _

_And it wasn't until it all disappeared that he realized the dream had not been a dream, but something real all along._

_Dear Kurt:_

_Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that I would be so lucky as to find someone as amazing as you, to love and be loved. _

_So naturally, never in my wildest dreams could I imagine that it might last._

_I lost my way. That is all I know. _

_I was blinded by fear and insecurity._

_Because you never know what you've got until it's gone._

_I don't know how to get you back, but I don't know how to be without you anymore, either. _

_But know, from the bottom of my heart, I am deeply sorry for any pain I caused you. I never wished to hurt you. More than anything, I never meant to make you feel like I stopped loving you at all._

_I never did. I never could. _

_And I never will. _

_No matter what._

* * *

His eyes fluttered open, squinting at the light from the bedside lamp. He forgot to turn it off.

Sam came in, tiptoeing, already clad in his pajamas.

"Oh, sorry, did I wake you?" he asked.

Kurt sat up, looking around blearily. He shook his head.

"We brought you back some flan from the party," Sam said, smiling like a dork. "It's past midnight, and the world didn't end. Yay!"

Kurt stared blankly at him. He ran a hand through his messy hair and plopped back down onto his pillows, pulling the blanket up to his ears. The journal landed on the mattress next to him.

"Sorry," Sam said, looking serious. "Are you okay? You kinda rushed out."

Kurt sighed. No, he wasn't okay. He was a bit hazy and disoriented. He felt like he was in a scene from _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_, and the journal was essentially bringing back everything he had wanted to forget.

"I'm not. I'm a mess, I don't know what to do," Kurt muttered into his pillow. He was surprised that Sam understood him. The blond boy nodded in agreement.

"I understand," he said, tiptoeing toward his bed at the other end of the room. Kurt waited until he heard Sam had settled in bed before turning off the light.

"Can I just... make a suggestion?" Sam spoke up, as Kurt reached for the switch. Kurt stilled his hand, signaling that he was listening.

"I've seen how miserable you both have been. I know I have no say in this, but personally I think it would be a real waste if you didn't give each other another chance."

Kurt didn't respond. He turned off the light and tried to go back to sleep.

* * *

_The scene with Blaine and Cooper and their sleepover reminded me suddenly of that scene in "Practical Magic", when Gillian shows up in the middle of the night because she felt Sally calling her, and she goes to comfort her, and they stay up all night talking, and Gillian gives Sally a pep talk, and leaves the next morning before Sally wakes up. It's such a heart-breaking scene for me, especially when Sally talks about her dead husband, and I just realized I never finished my Practical Magic-Glee fic. I have to get around to that..._

_And if you don't get the "Oh Captain, my captain!" thing, it's a reference to "Dead Poets' Society", where the main character, played by Ethan Hawke, is named Todd Anderson. I just remember watching it recently and thinking "Todd Anderson... and the uniform looks a bit like a Dalton uniform... and climbing up on tables..." and everything just sort of fell into place :)_

_Thanks for reading! Almost done!_

_-Valentina_


	6. Chapter 6

_Guess what? I'm back. No, I haven't been awfully busy. I have actually been quite leisurely. But guess what else? My computer decided to be the biggest jerk and he died on me. It was quite epic. But I lost the last chapter I had been working on, because I'm an idiot and I didn't back it up. So I had to get a new computer and start writing the chapter again. Major bummer. But here it is, finally. If it's not up to your expectations, you can blame it on the Ma-a-a-a-a-acBook baby. _

_Since I should've posted this last year, before the Christmas episode, technically, this basically contains none of the spoilers we have gotten since then. Keep that in mind, so you don't get confused._

_Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and FOX._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"I feel like I'm back to square one," Blaine said, sniffling.

It was Saturday after the party; Dr. Franco had told Blaine to come see her, because she would be away for the rest of the holidays, and they wouldn't have another session until at least January 3rd. So she wanted one last chance to talk to Blaine, to make sure he would be alright during the next two weeks.

Blaine had recounted to her what happened at the party, which in itself wasn't a very long story, except that Blaine also told her about how he had hoped the party would go.

In his mind, he would've been one step closer to regaining Kurt's trust, by trusting him with his journal; he thought that putting his most private thoughts, his hopes and wishes, and his regrets, in his hands would at least open the door of possibility to some form of reconciliation. Now he couldn't help but feel that door had vanished completely.

He held on to that hope all night and all morning, especially after chatting with Sam. His friend was going back home that afternoon to spend Christmas and New Year with his family, and so he called Blaine to say goodbye and give him a little pep talk.

"He read it, I saw him," Sam had said. Blaine's chest had done a little drumroll.

But he still had to hear from Kurt. Every minute that passed without a sign of life, his hope waned a little bit more.

He rubbed his forehead tiredly and sat back with a sigh.

"Nina, what do I do now?"

Dr. Franco, who had remained absolutely quiet while Blaine vented, sat forward and smiled.

"Blaine, you probably have no idea how much you've progressed in such a short time; as we have established, you don't give yourself enough credit. For anything."

Blaine managed to chuckle a little.

"You've opened up about your problems and doubts and your hopes; you made yourself vulnerable in ways you hadn't yet. You've grown and learned and improved amazingly, and I'm very proud of you. I hope that I have done well in guiding you and answering your questions." She gave a heavy sigh. "But I can't tell you what you should do."

Blaine had known that already, but his face fell anyway.

"The only person who knows what's really best for you is you. Hopefully what we've done here has helped you gain the confidence you need to put things in perspective, to look beyond your pain and self-doubt, to discover yourself and value yourself. I know it sounds cheesy, but you should listen to your heart. Follow your heart. You know yourself better than I ever will."

"Is that all the advice you can give me?"

"Well, I could tell you what to do, but that's not how this works. And it would still be up to Kurt. I can't control him, and neither can you. He still has to make his mind up about this."

He nodded and slowly blew a stream of air out his mouth. Dr. Franco suddenly became very serious.

"Blaine, I need you to do something for me," she started. "I need you to promise me that, if things don't go the way you hoped, that you won't let this destroy you."

Blaine's breath caught in his throat as she continued.

"You've had such a positive change in your persona, but I'm afraid that you might forget all about it if Kurt doesn't take you back. And you shouldn't; you shouldn't ignore the rest of your life just because a part of it might not turn out how you wanted."

"You're a good boy who made a mistake. That should not define the rest of your life."

Blaine was crying again, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Promise that, even if Kurt doesn't give your relationship a second chance, that _you_ will give yourself a second chance," she said earnestly. "You deserve it. You do."

He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and nodded obligingly.

"I promise," he whispered.

At the end of the session, she hugged him tight. He hugged her back even tighter.

"Have a great New Year, Blaine," she said, and she winked at him, like she knew something he didn't.

* * *

Blaine spent most of the holiday holed up in his room, listening to old Christmas records and watching Christmas classics, Disney movies, and the entire _Harry Potter_ Saga. He chatted with Sam a lot, mostly because Sam seemed bent on checking up on him. Tina also did, although not as frequently. She was spending a lot of time with Mike, now that they were back together and he came home for the holidays.

It made Blaine kind of sick and jealous and he felt bad for it.

Christmas Eve felt uneasy, especially because Cooper was not there to help him deal with the family. But also because he kept restlessly glancing at his phone.

There was not a bleep from Kurt.

There was one, however, from Cooper.

At midnight, just when everyone was starting to turn in, his phone rang, and Blaine made a mad dash for it. His face fell a little when he saw it wasn't Kurt, but he was still happy to hear his brother's voice.

Apparently Cooper was in Malibu, having a beach party for Christmas.

"Everything okay, B?"

Blaine sighed into the phone. "I'm fine, I just... really thought he would've called by now."

"Hey, don't think too much about that. You know, give it time."

"It's just-"

"NO! No over-thinking."

"Okay."

"Just try to enjoy Christmas break. Chill out, relax. You've had a rough few months."

"I feel a bit stifled right now," Blaine mumbled.

There was a brief silence on the line.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there," Cooper said genuinely. Blaine shook his head and smiled sadly.

"That's okay, you sound like you're having fun. Actually, I kinda wish I could be _there_ with you."

"Yeah, that would be even better," Cooper laughed. Blaine was quiet for a moment.

"I know it sounds silly, but... seeing as it is Christmas, I was kind of hoping for a little something magic to happen to me. You know, in the form of Kurt calling."

"Not Kurt showing up by surprise on your doorstep?"

Blaine chuckled. "That would've blown my mind."

"It's not silly, B," Cooper said, becoming serious. "You know, I think the idea of Christmas night being so magical is a little overrated. Frankly, I stopped believing in Christmas magic when I found out Santa isn't real. What I really believe in is New Year's Eve magic."

"You do?"

"Yeah, come on! A new year? There's something about the idea of starting the year from scratch that feels like really _anything_ can happen. Don't you think that makes more sense than celebrating the birthday of some guy on the wrong date or a winter's solstice or whatnot?"

Blaine fell silent. It was strange when Cooper made so much sense.

"Look, the world didn't end like the mayans supposedly said, so it's definitively not gonna end in the next week or so, either," Cooper added. "Just... trust your gut, okay, B? They say one of the hardest things to do in life is decide whether to walk away or try harder."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up. "That's the wisest thing you have ever said. Probably to anyone. In your entire life."

"Good to see your sense of humor is back."

"Humor? I'm being serious."

Cooper pretended to grumble. "I love you, okay? Call me if you need anything. I mean it."

Blaine smiled to himself. "I love you too."

"Merry Christmas, little bro."

"Merry Christmas, Coop."

* * *

Blaine thought about calling Kurt about a dozen times during Christmas morning. In the afternoon he went back to his _Game Of Thrones_ marathon, resurfacing only to reheat dinner leftovers and stock up on Nana's eggnog and apple cider.

Unwillingly, as he savored his aunt's turkey stuffing, he remembered last year's having Christmas dinner leftovers with Kurt, making sandwiches and pretending to have a picnic in Kurt's bedroom floor while watching movies.

"Stop it," he scolded himself.

* * *

"_I should stop eating like this, I'm gonna pack on the pounds," Kurt groaned, tapping at his stomach. Blaine tapped the same spot too, earning himself a whack on the hand._

"_And I'll love you no matter what, so don't even worry about things like that," Blaine said nonetheless._

"_You're gonna pack on the pounds too," Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. Blaine swallowed a particularly large bite of his sandwich and smirked._

"_Well, I know exactly how to work them off," he said, nudging his head back. Kurt glanced at the bed and blushed slightly. _

"_Blaine..."_

_Blaine laughed. "I was talking about your Pilates videos," he said, pointing to the stack of dvd's on Kurt's nightstand, "but I like where your mind went."_

_Kurt narrowed his eyes at him and smiled. "Oh yeah, right, my Pilates videos, suuuure."_

_Blaine gasped in outrage and picked some of the whipped cream on top of the apple pie and smeared it on Kurt's face. Before Kurt could protest, Blaine tackled him and started eating the whipped cream off his face and kissing him at the same time, with Kurt giggling and writhing underneath him. _

"_If my dad walks in right now," Kurt managed to say when Blaine's lips weren't on his, "I'll die of embarrassment," kiss, "and you'll just die." Kiss. "Because he might-" kiss, "kill you."_

"_He's not gonna kill me. But he'll never look at either of us or at apple pie the same way."_

_Kurt didn't respond. He just tugged Blaine closer and kissed him back, long and deeply, and Blaine prayed that Burt would stay away from the room, at least for a little while._

* * *

Christmas came and went, and Blaine found himself dreading the rest of the holiday break. What was he supposed to do?

His phone suddenly buzzed. He glanced at it boringly, expecting it to be Cooper with more pep talks.

It was Kurt.

He made a mad dive for it, but it only buzzed once. Even when he thought he pressed the answer button, the screen had already gone to 'missed call'. He stared down at it, confused. Had Kurt meant to call him? Was he really reaching out? Or had he dialed by mistake?

He wasn't sure what to think; when he tried calling back right away, it went straight to voicemail. Either Kurt had turned off his phone or he was ignoring him.

Why would he call and then ignore him?

He put on his shoes hurriedly and left his room.

"I'm going out for a bit, be back soon!" he called out, grabbing his coat and his keys.

"Careful, son! It snowed earlier," his father called back.

Blaine shut the door and walked to his car. It felt like ages since he had been outside.

* * *

He drove straight to Kurt's house. Driving carefully when he was trying to get there as fast as he could was a nightmare, though. But it started to snow slightly halfway, so he had to be extra careful. There was no time for stupid accidents.

As he slowed to a stop on the curb, he noticed Burt and Carole on the driveway, coming out of their car and walking up to the door.

His palms started sweating profusely inside his gloves. He hadn't seen Burt or talked to Burt since he and Kurt had broken up. He had a horrible feeling about this. But he hadn't driven all this way in this dodgy weather just to turn back home without at least trying to talk to Kurt.

He braced himself and hopped out of the driver seat, shutting the door behind him. Instantly, Burt and Carole turned at the noise. Blaine felt like a little kid caught sneaking around.

"Blaine!" Carole said cheerfully. Blaine swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he'd lost his voice.

"Uh... h-hi," he stuttered. Burt stared at him blankly, which made Blaine feel even more nervous. Carole's beaming face was at least slightly uplifting.

"Ummm, merry Christmas," he choked out, stepping forward hesitantly. Carole met him halfway, unexpectedly enveloping him in a hug. Blaine barely had the conscience to hug her back.

"Merry Christmas to you too, sweetheart," she replied, holding him at arm's length. "Come on in! I made eggnog, I know you loved it last year, this batch came out even better! Please come in for a bit!"

She started tugging him along toward the door. Before going inside, she threw Burt a look.

Blaine stopped just in front of Burt, worried that he might be shaking like a leaf, as Burt seized him up and down with a stare.

"Merry Christmas, B- Mr. Hummel," he breathed out.

Burt let out the heaviest sigh and waved a hand at him, gesturing for him to follow.

"Come on, it's freezing out here. And the eggnog _is_ even better than last year."

Blaine felt the tension ebbing away as he stepped in after Burt, and closed the door quietly.

"Kurt's heading back to New York," Burt said.

Blaine froze halfway through taking off his coat. Burt nodded slowly.

"We just dropped him off at the airport about half an hour ago. That's where we come from."

"Oh," Blaine muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"Sorry if you came all this way."

"Um... it's fine, it's just he... he called me. I got a call from him a little while back, and when I tried to call back, it went straight to voicemail."

Burt just stared at him.

"It must have been a mistake, then. I just thought..." Blaine trailed off and sighed, feeling like he might start crying. "Never mind."

"No, no, I don't think it was a mistake," Burt replied, putting his coat and scarf in the closet and heading into the kitchen, just as Carole set three steaming mugs on the breakfast table.

"Come on, Blaine," she beckoned him over.

Burt sat across from Blaine, as Blaine nervously settled on the chair that Carole pointed to. He lifted the mug of warm eggnog to his nose and felt immediately comforted by the delicious aroma. He smiled gratefully at Carole, not only for the eggnog, but also for her presence.

"I'm gonna go check on Finn," she suddenly said, rising quickly to her feet. She had only just sat down. Blaine followed her nervously with his eyes as she exited the kitchen.

He and Burt sat together in uncomfortable silence, or at least it was uncomfortable for Blaine. He could feel Burt's eyes boring into him as the man drank his eggnog. Blaine wondered briefly if this was what it was like to be in a police interrogation room, like in _CSI_.

"How are you doing, Blaine?" Burt finally asked. Blaine's stomach did a slight lurch.

"Umm... I'm okay."

"Are you?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I'm working on it," Blaine scratched his neck awkwardly.

Burt nodded slowly in understanding, taking another sip of his eggnog.

"Cuz you look like you're about to faint," he added.

Blaine swallowed hard. "Well, it hasn't been easy... and honestly, right now, I'm kinda nervous."

"Nervous? Because you were hoping to talk to Kurt?"

"Yeah, but also because I get the feeling, like... maybe you don't want me here...?"

"Why's that?" Burt asked, his voice minutely gruff.

Blaine gave a shuddering breath. "I- Mr. Hummel, I just... don't know what to say anymore-"

"'Mr. Hummel'? You haven't called me that since I caught you sleeping off a hangover in Kurt's bed."

Blaine turned bright red. There was a hint of a smile on the edges of Burt's lips.

"Or was it since that time you visited me at the shop and told me to give my son the sex talk?"

Blaine's eyes unwillingly filled with tears.

"I just didn't think that I- that I should call you... Burt. Not after what I did."

He suddenly felt like either vomiting or running out. It was just too weird sitting in that kitchen, with this man who had been nothing but kind and friendly and supportive to him. A man whom, he was sure, hated his guts right now.

But Burt shook his head slowly, toying with his mug.

"Have I ever been hostile toward you?" he asked suddenly. "Sure, I admit that, when I found out, I felt angry, like any protective father would, but Kurt wouldn't have any of that. And when he told us you were going to therapy to work on whatever issues you have, I couldn't be so angry at you anymore."

He leaned back in his chair. "Look, I know you probably weren't thinking clearly when you did what you did. Because I've seen you with Kurt, and I know what you boys had, and I refuse to believe that you would ever hurt him on purpose. You're not like that."

Blaine wiped a stray tear from his cheek, as Burt continued.

"I know now that you've also had other problems for a while, and that you're trying to sort them out. I'm glad you are, and I'm proud of you for it. And I'm thankful for how you've dealt with this. That you admitted that you did wrong and you're trying to fix things. It shows that you take this relationship seriously. You know that what you boys have is worth fighting for."

Blaine pressed his lips together and nodded. "I don't want to give up."

"I don't want you to, either," Burt replied. "Kurt is special. You know that. And he deserves someone just as special as him."

He stood up for a moment and walked over to the counter, reaching into one of the drawers. He pulled out an envelope and brought it over to the table, putting it in front of Blaine.

"What's this?" Blaine asked, just starting to pull out the contents and his eyes widened.

"My ticket to New York, departing on the 29th at 11:40 a.m. from Dayton International Airport and arriving at 4:20 p.m. at JFK," Burt replied.

Blaine stared at the plane ticket in his hand and blinked several times, disbelieving. "What?"

Burt shrugged. "I was going to surprise Kurt for New Year's Eve, seeing as he had no plans. But now I think this might be a better surprise."

Blaine's hands trembled slightly as he considered everything. He pushed the papers away from him. "Burt, I can't possibly accept this."

Burt just pushed them right back. "Yes, you can. You know you want it, and I want you to have it."

There was a silence as Blaine stared speechlessly at him, his mouth slightly agape, until Burt patted him on the back, a little too roughly.

"I feel obligated to warn you, though," he suddenly said, voice deep and no-nonsense: "if you ever do something like this to my son again, I'm not going to be as gracious or understanding or calm."

Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat. "Understood," he croaked.

He seemed to stare down at the ticket for another full minute, until he felt his chest flood with a warm feeling unlike the delicious eggnog he'd been drinking. He finally smiled at Burt.

"Burt, I swear to you, you will never have to worry about that again," he choked out.

* * *

No amount of valerian root could've helped Blaine sleep that night, or the next, as he packed and repacked his clothes, nervously and excitedly. He considered calling Dr. Franco for last minute advice. But no, he had to do this on his own.

He lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, going over every possible scenario in his head, thinking about what he was going to say.

Sam called him the next day. He had, oddly enough, sort of become Blaine's voice of reason.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, I don't know what's going to happen, but..." he ran a nervous hand through his disheveled hair. "You said he read the journal. I'm thinking maybe at least we can talk, and he'll know that I'm being one hundred percent honest."

"Okay, yes, hopefully," Sam said. "But... look, I don't want to rain on your parade or whatever, man, but... have you considered what you'd do if... you know, if he decides you both should just... move on?"

Blaine sighed. "Of course I have. It's bleak and horrible and I don't like it one bit... but, I guess I've already lived like that for a few months, so maybe, just maybe, I would make it through."

There was a light bitterness to his words, and Sam seemed to pick up on that.

"Wow... okay... good to see you're optimistic," he said sarcastically. Blaine rolled his eyes even though Sam couldn't see him.

"What can I say, Sam? I'm not saying that I would be a total disaster for the rest of my life, but it wouldn't be easy to pick up the pieces, you know, knowing what could've been. I mean, there's a pretty big chance that I would spend an awfully large part of my life wondering what he's doing, who he's with, if he's happy..." he trailed off before his voice could break. "So, I'm just going to find out if I should get used to being miserable for the rest of my life, or maybe, hopefully, the exact opposite."

There was a silence on the line.

"Good luck, dude," Sam said simply, encouragingly, and Blaine smiled.

* * *

His parents drove him to the airport. They hugged him briefly. They made a big deal about calling a cousin in Long Island, in case Blaine needed someplace to stay before returning to Lima.

They probably thought this was a bad idea, him going off like that on New Year's Eve; that it might be a huge step back in his treatment or something. That he was putting himself up for heartbreak again.

He tried to look confident for them. The truth was he felt like someone had removed his entrails.

* * *

The flight felt longer than the first time he visited New York. He tried in vain to distract himself by reading, listening to music and sleeping. So he just looked out the window the whole time, trying, as Cooper had instructed, not to think too much.

Getting a cab took forever. It was high season, after all, and JFK was chaos. It was already dark when he finally arrived at Bushwick, watching out the window at the Christmas lights and the people on the streets. It was starting to snow lightly.

The cab driver stopped at the address he was given. Suddenly feeling like he was missing his entrails again, Blaine paid his fare and got out of the car. The blast of cold air in his face into the shadow of the old building.

He stood there for a moment, trying to shut down his thoughts again. Don't think. Just go. Don't think.

He made it to the doorway, and then he stared at the intercom for a good five minutes, willing himself to press the button, before he remembered that the intercom didn't work. He hoped someone would show up and open the door for him before he could get a chance to regret everything and leave.

A man with a red umbrella suddenly came out of the building. Blaine held the door open.

He took his time walking up the stairs, suddenly unable to hold his thoughts at bay any longer. All the possible scenarios he had envisioned flooded back, half-rehearsed speeches and a few bits of poetry. No song lyrics, though. They were past that.

Before he knew it, he stood outside the metal door. Faint voices came from the other side. He knocked.

Someone yelped, and he heard footsteps approaching, and one of the voices became clear.

"... your eyes. It's a surprise. I promise you'll love it. Brody, make sure his eyes are closed... Okay? Don't open them until I tell you."

The door slid open, and Rachel beamed for a split-second, before she suddenly looked aghast. Behind her, Brody had one hand over Kurt's eyes, while Kurt just stood there, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, murmuring something.

"Uh..." Blaine mumbled.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Kurt asked, dropping his hands at his sides. Brody looked confused.

"NO! NOT YET!" she shouted over her shoulder. "Brody, don't let him peek! Just- ONE SECOND!"

She stepped out and shut the door firmly behind her.

"What are you doing here? Where's Burt?" she hissed at him.

Blaine couldn't figure out if she was shocked or actually indignant.

"Um, he gave me his plane ticket."

"Oh did he?" she said, her tone accusing. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Yes, he did. I didn't steal it from him, okay? He wanted me to come."

"I'm not saying- ugh, look," she sighed, "Sorry, I was just surprised. I was expecting Burt. He planned this since, like, Thanksgiving, and told me to keep the secret. So you can't blame me if I find it a little hard to believe that he would-"

"Give me another chance?" Blaine finished for her.

"Well, honestly, yes," Rachel shrugged.

"Well, he surprised me too," Blaine replied. "There's no one in the world that loves Kurt as much as his dad does, maybe not even me. And if his dad is willing to fly me here in his place and try to talk to Kurt again, then that must mean something, right?"

Rachel shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure if this is a good idea. I mean-"

"Rachel, I know you're worried about Kurt, but I can promise you that I'm not here to do any more harm to him." Blaine took a deep breath. "I'm here because I'm better, and I want to make up for what I've done, and I really think there's a chance for..." he trailed off, feeling the lump rising to his throat again. "I don't know... for starting over? Hopefully?"

Rachel was silent for a moment. Blaine was starting to lose his nerve, but then she sighed.

"Okay, fine. Here's what we'll do: Brody and I will leave you two alone. I better not come back and find him crying inconsolably on his bed."

Before Blaine could say anything in response, Rachel turned again and pried the door open a bit, to peek inside. "Are your eyes still closed, Kurt?" she called through the crack.

"Rachel, for the love of everything that's good, just show me whatever it is already," Kurt's voice said in a dangerous growl. "Brody, stop squishing my face."

"I'm not squishing. You're exaggerating."

"No, wait one second," Rachel instructed. "Brody, let him go, but Kurt, keep your eyes shut."

Rachel opened the door carefully and signaled for Brody to come over. Kurt sighed visibly and put his own hands over his eyes once Brody let go of him.

Rachel mouthed something to Brody, and they both picked up their coats and boots, and Rachel grabbed her purse. Blaine stepped into the apartment carefully, staring at Kurt.

"Just keep them close for one more moment..." Rachel sang, as she and Brody tiptoed out. She turned one last time and waved goodbye to Blaine before shutting the door firmly with a bang.

Blaine stood still, afraid to even breathe. He glanced at Kurt, whose head cocked at the sound, and the consequent silence.

"Rachel?" he asked.

Blaine gulped. He felt his heart do a ridiculously fast and erratic pitter-patter, and he barely fought the urge to run out. He turned toward the door hesitantly.

"Blaine?"

Blaine's head snapped around again. Kurt was looking straight at him, lips parted in surprise.

His throat went dry. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

Kurt's tone was gentler than Blaine expected. For some reason, that made him turn bright red.

"I, uh... your dad," he stuttered. "He was the surprise. But he told me to come instead."

"He did?" Kurt asked, voice small.

Blaine put his bag down. He took two steps toward Kurt, but stopped himself abruptly.

"Look, I only came here because I was waiting for some sign that you read my journal. And when you called, I thought maybe you were reaching out. I understand that maybe that was just a mistake from your part, but when I tried calling you back and you didn't answer, I went to your house in hopes of talking to you in person. And then your dad told me you had just gotten on a plane to come back here. And he gave me his plane ticket and he wouldn't take no for an answer. And he said some other things that kind of made me feel better, but I- I... I don't know. I guess I managed to overcome the fear long enough to come here and find out for myself." He snapped his mouth shut.

It was during that moment when he managed to shut up and catch his breath, and while Kurt seemed to process what he heard, that Blaine took a moment to watch him. He was wearing grey slacks and a black sweater with buttons on the shoulder. He looked beautiful and warm and familiar.

It suddenly struck him that the black sweater actually belonged to him.

Kurt was wearing _his_ sweater.

Kurt seemed to realized what he was staring at, because he wrapped his arms around himself.

"I've been a little nostalgic," he said, shrugging, "especially after reading your journal."

Blaine swallowed, although his throat felt extremely dry.

"Do you still have it?" he asked hoarsely. Kurt nodded.

"Yeah. I'll go get it," he replied, and turned on his heel and walked though the drapes into his room. Blaine felt a strange wave of relief wash over him.

"I was so sure you would've thrown it out," he said, not knowing how he even found his voice. Kurt emerged from his room quickly, the little notebook in his hand.

"I could never do that," he shook his head minutely, as if the mere thought were unreasonable. "I really liked it. Parts of it, at least."

Blaine's eyes widened with wonder. "Really?"

"It made me cry."

"Yeah, well," Blaine shrugged, "I've done a lot of crying myself too."

Kurt held the notebook toward Blaine, and Blaine's fingers trembled as he took it.

Kurt breathed deeply. "Look, I..."

"Kurt, please don't," Blaine interrupted. "If you're going to tell me this made no difference at all, I don't want you to be careful with how you say it. What you said last week made me realize that I have to get used to the idea of everything being completely different from now on."

"I gave you this," he said, gesturing to the notebook in his hand, "and I agreed to come here today, because I hoped that in some way I could make up for what I did, for the way I betrayed your trust. And I really hoped that, even if you can't be with me anymore, even if you can't love me anymore, that I'd somehow still be able to keep you in my life. Because you're not just the... the love of my life," he choked out, "you're also my best friend, and possibly the most amazing man I have ever met. And you've changed me, and I can't just let you go. I would have you in any form that you would have me."

Kurt seemed to have been rendered speechless, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes sad. A tear slipped out of Blaine's eye.

"I'm gonna go now," he blurted out. "I wouldn't force you to make a final decision right now. You probably haven't even thought about it," he shrugged and gave a sad smile. "But it's New Year's Eve, and like Cooper said, there's something magical about, being able to start over, turn a new page. So I thought I would. But I wanted to see you. And I'd really like to know where I stand with you."

Without another word, he picked up his bag and walked out the door as fast as he could without running. The door shut with a clank, and he let out a shuddering sigh in the hallway. His chest felt heavy, and his heart felt like it was stuck halfway down his throat.

He started down the staircase. As soon as he stepped out in the cold, he couldn't help but recall the awful feeling of finality he had felt months ago, when he stepped out of the building the morning after the break up. Like he had stepped out of Kurt's life forever.

Except that he hadn't. Not entirely.

It was really cold. Without thinking, he started down the sidewalk to his left, walking briskly to keep warm. It was still snowing lightly.

There were footsteps behind him suddenly, approaching fast. Blaine turned confused, only to see Kurt catching up with him. He was wearing a heavy dark coat and a bright red scarf and boots.

"You can't just go out like that," Kurt said. "Have you not been watching the news? The weather in New York's been crazy. Also, this isn't exactly a safe neighborhood," he added, glancing warily around.

Blaine mentally kicked himself. "What do you suggest, then?"

Kurt gave him a look and glanced around. "Just come with me," he said, and walked ahead of Blaine in the direction they had already been headed.

* * *

"I did call you on purpose," Kurt finally said, once they were inside the tiny, warm Starbucks coffee shop, just a block away from the apartment. Blaine stared at him with wide eyes.

"I started calling you from the plane. But we were about to take off, and the flight attendants gave me a look, so I had to shut it off before I could even talk to you. And then, when we landed, I kind of panicked and didn't try again."

They were in line to order coffee. Blaine's bag felt heavier by the second, and he briefly thought about having either one of them sit with it at a table while the other placed the orders, but not now that Kurt had started talking.

Kurt looked down at his feet. "You see, I wanted to forgive you. I was just... scared."

His voice became thick. "I just kept thinking... what if I do, and then you do this to me again? I don't think my pride could take it."

Blaine started shaking his head frantically. "I was a stupid insecure little kid, I was stupid enough to let my insecurities get the best of me." He sniffed loudly and tried to calm down. He cleared his throat. Kurt just stared straight ahead.

"I've had misery to last me my entire life," Blaine continued. "Right now I just want to make up for my mistakes. And I've worked on it. I hope you will let me explain everything."

"And then what?" Kurt asked. "We can move on from this?"

Blaine shook his head and gave a faint smile. "I told you, I need to deserve you again."

"Do you think it's going to be easy?"

"No. But it sure seems a lot easier than trying to move on from you." Blaine said, his heart beating a thousand miles per hour. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him, but his mouth twitched.

"So it's like _When Harry Met Sally..._ once again."

Blaine laughed lightly. "Oh right, I put the quote in the journal and all..."

"It's like it's coming full circle."

They were silent for a moment. The line moved forward faster. Blaine's heart was beating even faster.

"I know we couldn't just pick up where we left. It's not that easy," he licked his lips nervously. "But... do you think we can, like, start over... somehow?"

Kurt didn't answer. He seemed to be trying to keep a straight face. It was their turn at the counter.

"Can I have a grande skinny mocha and a grande medium roast for my friend Billy Crystal?"

He didn't really look at Blaine as he as he paid for their coffees, but he couldn't help smiling to himself slightly. Blaine's heart did a triple somersault.

* * *

On sunday, Kurt gave him a tour of Manhattan, and then they went for a walk around Central Park.

Blaine talked at length about everything. Everything he talked to Dr. Franco about, everything Dr. Franco had said to him, and a few of his own conclusions. And Kurt listened. He barely asked questions or made interjections. He seemed to be on the verge of tears many times.

"She made me promise that I wouldn't let this destroy me," Blaine said.

Kurt's face became dark. "I'm not trying to destroy you."

Blaine shook his head. "Of course not. I nearly destroyed myself."

The mood was severely different from the last time they had walked through a New York city park together. It might have been just because of the cold, but they walked very close to each other. It wasn't awkward or anything.

"She told me that I've changed," Blaine continued. "I still wish I could take it all back, but she said it's not good to think that way. If things hadn't happened this way, I'd still be the insecure boy I used to be."

Kurt chuckled. "I used to think there were so many things I'd like to change about my life, things that I did or didn't do." He paused and glanced at Blaine. "But then maybe, if I had done things differently, you and I would've never met."

"I know," Blaine nodded. "I had a nightmare like that once."

* * *

Blaine was dead tired that night. They had been walking around all day, the first time they had ever been able to enjoy New York City together. This had been what Blaine had wanted; this was how things had been supposed to go that time he visited by surprise. If only he hadn't screwed everything up.

That night they had a normal conversation, about what's been going on with New Directions, the new kids, Vogue, NYADA, etc. Rachel joined them for a bit, but turned in early, although they guessed it was only for their benefit, since the light in her room remained on for a few hours afterwards.

They watched movies until very late, until their eyes were drooping. Blaine didn't do it on purpose, but halfway through the second film, his head began nodding and he woke up about five minutes later with his head resting on Kurt's shoulders.

Kurt didn't say anything. But Blaine wanted to be careful. He made sure to stay properly upright.

* * *

It was obvious that Kurt was trying to be careful too. Nothing he said or did was on a whim. He seemed to think long and hard before saying anything, and he seemed to keep himself in check whenever he was with Blaine. Often Blaine caught Rachel giving Kurt a look, and Kurt would take a deep breath.

Baby steps, Blaine guessed. He could do with that. He could do with anything.

* * *

He slept on the couch both nights. He would've been just as happy on the floor or somewhere equally cold and uncomfortable. He hadn't slept this well in months, even after he started taking valerian root.

It was being gently woken up by Kurt that probably did the trick.

* * *

On monday, they bought food to make a somewhat decent New Year's Eve dinner for just the four of them. They spent most of the afternoon cooking and watching "Best of 2012" countdowns and fireworks displays from other timezones.

After dinner, Rachel and Brody braved the cold to go watch the ball drop live at Times Square. Kurt and Blaine opted out of it; Kurt joked that he worried Blaine might get lost in the crowd. Blaine couldn't even pretend to get mad at that; he was elated to have Kurt poke harmless fun at him again.

They set up for a quiet evening; champagne and grapes for when the clock struck twelve, and watching the New Year's special on TV. It was a little awkward at first, but Kurt slowly grew more at ease, so Blaine felt more relaxed too.

"We should call our parents now, before the phone lines get so crowded it becomes impossible to get through," Kurt suggested. It was about 20 minutes to midnight.

Blaine nodded and went to fetch his phone. He hadn't planned on calling his parents, but now that he thought about it, he'd been so distracted, he had forgotten to call them and let them know he was okay.

His call was brief, though, and he settled back to the couch, Kurt was still in his room, talking to his dad on the phone, in a hushed tone. But the apartment was small, and there were no walls; Blaine could hear him perfectly.

"... Yeah, that was pretty sneaky of you... I guess... We'll be okay, I think... Thank you... for this, for... Just thank you... Happy new year, dad... Bye, I love you..."

Kurt came back. Blaine pretended to be shuffling through the stack of vinyls Kurt owned.

"Looking for anything in particular?" Kurt asked. Blaine looked dumbfounded.

"Uh, not really. I was just looking through...

"This one is perfect for the occasion, though," Kurt said, picking one himself. It was an Ella Fitzgerald Christmas record. Blaine smiled as he watched Kurt put it on the record player and move the needle.

"_When the bells all ring and the horns are blown/ And the couples we know are fondly kissing/ Will I be with you or will I be among the missing..."_

There was something so overwhelmingly comforting suddenly filled the air, as Ella's timeless voice reached his ears.

"_Maybe it's much too early in the game/ Oh but I thought I'd ask you just the same/ What are you doing New Year's/ New Year's Eve?"_

To his utter surprise, Kurt glided over to him and held out a hand. Blaine, in his shock, didn't know how to react, until he saw Kurt blushing and give him a meaningful look. Blaine finally managed to spring to his feet, taking Kurt's hand quickly.

"_Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight/ When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night/ Welcoming in the New Year/ New Year's Eve..."_

He swallowed hard, nervously, as Kurt took the lead, swaying them slowly to the music. They danced like they did at school dances; arms around each other, cheek to cheek. Blaine forgot how to breathe when Kurt intertwined their fingers.

"_Maybe I'm crazy to suppose/ I'd ever be the one you chose/ Out of the thousand invitations/ You receive..."_

Blaine's chest swelled with joy as they relaxed into each other's arms. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly and deeply, breathing in Kurt's scent and every other scent in the apartment that would probably become embedded in his mind, and in the future would forever recall memories of this moment.

"_Oh but in case I stand one little chance/ Here comes the jackpot question in advance/ What are you doing New Year's/ New Year's Eve?"_

They danced like that, not even paying attention to the music anymore, until they heard the TV roaring with cheers. The countdown was about to begin. They came out of their trance to watch the ball drop.

"...7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Ryan Seacrest shouted into the microphone, along with the rest of New York City.

Colorful confetti peppered the screen, people hugged each other. Aud Lang Syne started playing.

"Come on," Kurt said to him, pulling him by the sleeve. Blaine followed him to the window. They could see the fireworks display from there. They could have probably heard the roar from the streets, if they had dared open the windows.

"Happy New Year, Kurt," Blaine whispered, holding his glass of champagne to toast.

Kurt tore his eyes away from the sky and looked at him for a moment. His eyes fell to the glass of champagne in his own hand, but he smiled. He leaned toward Blaine, cupping his face gently, and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Happy New Year, Blaine," he replied when he pulled back.

Blaine's lips still tingled as they turned back to the fireworks display.

* * *

_I don't know anything about coffee, sorry. I don't drink coffee. I also don't smoke. Am I really Spanish, I've often wondered._

_I don't know if there is a Dayton International Airport for real, or how close it is to Lima. Just pretend that it's the one they always use. _

_Just one more chapter to go._

_Thanks for reading._

_-Vale._


	7. Chapter 7

_I lied: this isn't the last chapter. Epilogue after this. Sorry._

_Also, sorry this took so long. Crazy busy, and I kept trying to shorten it, so it could end here, but to no avail. That's why this isn't the last._

_Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and FOX._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Chapter 7**

The next time Dr. Nina Franco met with Blaine Anderson, which was a week later than originally scheduled (per his request), he entered her office wearing an impish grin and carrying a small gift box, and offered it to her before she could say anything at all. She watched him curiously as she opened it, and pulled out a white coffee mug with the bold lettering that read 'I (heart) NY'.

She chuckled lightly and looked up at him.

"I guess you have quite a story to tell me about your holiday."

* * *

Blaine sent a mug to Cooper as well. It was a lot sooner than he expected when he got a simple text from his brother.

_B, you dog!_

* * *

It was Kurt that encouraged Blaine to send in a late application to NYADA. There was a lot of filling out forms and late fees and requesting documents, but he managed to get it done pretty quickly.

"It's done," Blaine told Kurt over Skype, as soon as he got back home from the post office.

"Mine too," Kurt replied with a hopeful sigh.

They talked for a while about the songs they might be doing in the event that they both were finalists. Blaine could only concentrate on the way Kurt's face lit up as he talked about Les Mis.

* * *

His birthday was mostly uneventful. His parents promised to take him out to dinner if he had no other plans. He got a card from his grandfather, a rather large check enclosed and a hearty good luck on getting into the school of his choice. Blaine supposed the sensible thing to do was put the money away into his college fund.

The Glee club sang 'happy birthday' to him, and Sam got him a present: it was a collage of pictures of himself and Blaine from when they won the senior class Presidency, that he also submitted to the yearbook.

"Just so you don't forget some of the great things you have achieved," Sam said, before Blaine almost tackled him into a hug.

* * *

It wasn't until he got back home from dinner with his parents that he got a call from Kurt. His heart started beating a little bit faster.

"You didn't think I had forgotten, did you?"

"Um, no, no..." Blaine said sheepishly, sitting at the edge of his bed.

"Oh my god, you didn't think I'd call, did you?" Kurt asked indignantly.

"Well, can you blame me?" Blaine replied playfully.

"I'm appalled. But... well, I guess you might be right."

Blaine laid back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm really glad you did, though."

"Yeah, I'm glad I did too."

Blaine laughed as he listened to a story of something outrageous that happened at work, and something that Rachel did. He told Kurt about his uneventful day, and they ended up talking about Regionals and senior ditch day and their NYADA auditions. Blaine hugged Margaret Thatcher Dog to his chest.

* * *

He knew it was kind of a long shot, but when Kurt confirmed that he was coming back to Lima for Mr. Schue's wedding, Blaine thought he might as well try. The next time they spoke on the phone, after about an hour of light conversation and getting Kurt to laugh heartily a couple of times, he asked sheepishly, offhandedly. There was only a brief pause before Kurt agreed.

At least that part wasn't so hard.

"So... how does this usually go?" Kurt asked finally, shifting on on end of the couch in Dr. Franco's office.

Dr. Franco smiled at the couple sitting side by side. "Well, usually what we do is, the person talks about their concerns and just about anything they feel like talking about, and we take it from there," she explained. "As I told Blaine on his first session, sometimes all we need is someone who will listen, and then we can often come by the answers to our questions on our own."

Kurt nodded in understanding. Blaine watched him out of the corner of his eye.

"I know it's a little nerve-wrecking, but you don't have to worry. As I also first told Blaine, I'm not here to judge. I'm here to help," she continued. "I really thought it would be good to get a chance to meet you, and perhaps see if I can help you both out. All I know about you is what Blaine has told me, and I thought it would be nice to hear the story from your point of view."

Either Kurt had been prepared, or he was just really good at telling the story of his life. With a little coaxing, he told it in a little over half an hour. He talked about Blaine and him mostly, but he also talked about his childhood, about coming out, losing his mother, etc. He mentioned things he did after the breakup, that Blaine didn't know. He seemed pretty calm by the time he was done.

"You know, Kurt,"Dr. Franco started, "Blaine was worried that you might not want to come today."

Kurt glanced briefly at Blaine. "Of course I would. I mean, it wasn't exactly easy, but... if I can help him in any way, I will." He licked his lips thoughtfully. "He's still my friend, after all."

Dr. Franco turned to Blaine. "Blaine, is there anything you would like to say to that?"

Blaine swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

"I'm just really grateful that he's given me a chance to explain myself. And as much as I hurt him, he's still been very supportive, and-" his voice caught momentarily.

"Blaine," Dr. Franco said, "what do you really want to say to Kurt?"

Blaine was afraid to look at Kurt. If he did, he'd start crying.

"That I love him and I would do anything for him to take me back," he said breathlessly. "And I was kind of hoping you could help us sort this out. I feel like you've really helped me. I've been very confused, but now I finally feel like my head is clear. And I want to make up for what I have done. If he'll give me the chance."

Dr. Franco glanced at Kurt. "What do you say to that, Kurt?"

Kurt gave a tremulous breath. "I... I don't know... I- I just..."

"Do you still love Blaine, too?"

Kurt nodded slowly, eyes filling with tears.

"But it's hard for you to forgive him for what he did."

Kurt sniffed loudly. "It's just... how can I know he's not going to do this to me again?" he asked, wiping a tear from his cheek. "I mean, it wouldn't be the first time that he's made a promise and then broken it... And I don't think I could take it..."

Blaine's chest tighten horribly, like it did every time Kurt cried because of him.

"You don't know," Dr. Franco answered with a shrug. "There is no way for you to know. Just like Blaine won't know either if you're never going to throw his previous mistake in his face every chance you get. How does he know that you won't hold on to that resentment?"

Kurt glanced at Blaine momentarily, and Blaine met his eyes.

"You're both just going to have to put this behind you," Dr. Franco continued. "If you're really going to give your relationship another try, you have to let go of the past. So if you know you really love each other, then you need to meet in the middle, so you can really have a new start."

* * *

The drive to Blaine's house was pretty quiet, except for Kurt fiddling with the radio.

He finally pulled into Blaine's driveway and put the car in 'park', and they just sat there in silence.

"Your therapist has been watching the 'Sex and the City' movie," Kurt finally said. Blaine chuckled.

"The first one, right? I thought so too."

Kurt sighed. "So... are we supposed to meet in the middle of Brooklyn Bridge or something?"

"Do you want to?" Blaine asked. Kurt's eyes were a little too intently fixed on the dashboard.

"I mean, the Brooklyn Bridge doesn't really have anything to do with us."

"No. I guess it doesn't."

"And halfway between our homes is Pennsylvania."

Blaine laughed again. "That's true."

There was another heavy silence between them.

"I'm..." Kurt started, and Blaine turned to him hopefully.

"Let me just think about it a bit more, okay? I just..." Kurt looked down at his hands. "I need to do this on my own, and then just..."

"Then you'll know?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged, worrying his bottom lip.

"Just... just try to see this from my perspective," he whispered. "What would you do if you were me?"

Blaine's mouth went dry, as Kurt finally looked up at him, eyes brimming once again.

"Tell me honestly, Blaine: if I were the one who had been with someone else, would _you_ be able to forgive me?"

Blaine stared back at him. "Yes," he said very quietly, but without a hint of hesitation.

Kurt started shaking his head, a tear already rolling down his cheek. "Yes," Blaine repeated. "I'm serious. I would. I mean, I know it wouldn't be so easy or quick, but I would."

He turned on his seat so he was facing Kurt completely, and he reached for his hand.

"Because you're _you_. You're Kurt. I was made for you. And I can't really exist without you."

Kurt gave a teary chuckle. "That's awfully sad."

"No, it's not," Blaine said. "It's not sad to know what you want. For the first time in my life, I know without a doubt what I want. More than anything else."

Silent tears poured out of Kurt's eyes as he went back to staring fixedly at the dashboard. Blaine took a deep breath and got out of the car.

"I love you and I miss you," he said, turning around. "That's all I know."

Kurt gave an almost imperceptible nod, before Blaine shut the door.

* * *

At Mr. Schue's wedding reception, Blaine was pretty busy with the performances New Directions had planned in honor of the newlywed couple. The boys and girls performed, as a group and some duets; then Mr. Schue himself sang to his new wife, and the glee club did backup vocals. All the time, Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt. And a few times, he caught Kurt looking back at him.

He didn't want to push his luck, so Blaine only asked him to dance once. But they danced pretty much all night. After the first song, it felt like they were much more at ease with each other. He kind of wished the others hadn't been staring so much, though. He saw Rachel giving him the thumbs-up once, and Puck grinning at them like an idiot throughout an entire song.

It almost felt like they were back in the New York apartment, dancing to Ella Fitzgerald. Kurt felt and smelled just as familiar and cozy. They barely said a word, but maybe they didn't need to.

He knew it meant nothing, really, absolutely nothing; but when the party was over, and he hugged Kurt goodbye, it felt like Kurt held on a bit longer than usual. And that was all Blaine needed to keep going.

* * *

They spoke to each other at least once a week, on the phone, over Skype, by e-mail. They talked about their days, about school, about work, about Regionals, about the prospect of NYADA. They didn't talk about what Dr. Franco had said. Blaine, for his part, was really afraid to.

* * *

His audition came sooner than he hoped.

Just like Kurt had done the previous year, he had to audition for Carmen Tibideaux. Her commanding presence was not as intimidating as he remembered. But since Kurt hadn't gotten into NYADA the previous year, in spite of giving an outstanding audition, Blaine was still incredibly nervous.

And just like Kurt had done the previous year, Blaine prepared a plan B. He had intended to audition with "Tonight", since it had landed him the role of Tony in 'West Side Story'; but it was too safe a choice, and it wasn't exactly _him_. If he was going to nail this audition, he had to really go for it.

He poked his head out the curtains. Everyone from the glee club was in the audience, and Mr. Schue, and Miss Pillsbury. That didn't exactly help his anxiety.

Blaine decided to go with his gut feeling and switched to plan B. He nervously spoke to the band before they took their places on the stage.

"Good afternoon," Blaine started when he reached the microphone. He took a very deep breath. "My name is Blaine Anderson, and I'll be auditioning with 'Falling Slowly', from the musical 'Once'."

He saw Sam and Artie glance at each other in confusion. Carmen Tibideaux wrote something down.

"Um, I'm going to ask my friend Tina Cohen-Chang to help me out. Tina?" Blaine said, beckoning at Tina standing on the sideline. She walked out onstage after a moment, holding a microphone. Blaine sighed a little in relief.

"Are you sure about this?" Tina whispered to him. Blaine swallowed hard and nodded.

"Yep," he said as confidently as he could, walking over to the piano and staring at the head of the vocal department of NYADA, sitting in the audience expectantly.

Tina sat down beside him and he breathed deeply a couple of times before he started playing.

"_I don't know you/ But I want you/ All the more for that..._"

Tina joined in on the second verse.

"_Words fall through me/ And always fool me/ And I can't react..._"

The band played along softly.

"_And games that never amount/ To more than they're meant/ Will play themselves out..._"

The music swelled a little, and Blaine glanced up at Carmen nervously. She was stony-faced as she watched. Blaine closed his eyes and forgot all about her. He tried to clear his mind of everything, of all nerves and reservations.

But one thing that he couldn't push out of his mind was Kurt, and wishing Kurt could be there, watching him.

"_Take this sinking boat/ And point it home/ We've still got time/ Raise your hopeful voice/ You have a choice/ You've made it now..._"

Blaine pretended to sing to him, just to focus on something that made him happy and not nervous at all.

"_Falling slowly/ Eyes that know me/ And I can't go back/ Moods that take me/ And erase me/ And I'm painted black..._"

He shut his eyes hard as he continued to play.

"_You have suffered enough/ And warred with yourself/ It's time that you won..._"

Suddenly, he wasn't nervous at all anymore. He started feeling like his old self, but an improved version: truly confident, no longer confused.

"_Take this sinking boat/ And point it home/ We've still got time/ Raise your hopeful voice/ You have a choice/ You've made it now..._"

He suddenly remembered vividly the moment he stopped feeling like a lost little boy trying just to find a place to belong, and started feeling like a man; it was the day that the most beautiful boy in the world greeted him on the Dalton staircase. And everything that happened after that.

Until he made the most stupid mistake of his life, and lost everything.

He couldn't help himself; he started to cry.

"_Falling slowly/ Sing your melody/ I'll sing along..._"

Why did he pick that song? Why? It was too close, too close...

"_I paid the cost too late..._" he sang, his voice on the brink of breaking. "_Now you're gone..._"

He played the last notes and the violinists closed the song gently.

Sugar and Brittany broke into enthusiastic clapping, before Artie and Unique stopped them.

Blaine forced himself to breathe deeply and calm himself. Tina's hand fell momentarily on his shoulder, comfortingly. Blaine shook his head in disbelief.

He had just started to cry in the middle of a song, in front of his teachers, his friends and classmates, and the woman who would decide his college fate.

It took him a moment to get up from the bench and walk over to the center of the stage. He wiped his tears as subtly as he could, and cleared his throat.

"Thank you."

Carmen Tibideaux bowed her head and made a few notes before looking up again, after what felt like ages. She cleared her throat before speaking.

Blaine glanced at his friends. They all gave him thumbs-up signs. Artie and Sam nodded vigorously. Miss Pillsbury merely put her hand over her heart and smiled.

"That was very beautiful and heartfelt," Carmen began, her voice softer than Blaine expected. "It felt like a very honest performance, and I appreciate that honesty, and the fact that you chose something truly fresh. Although it was a bit unorthodox. But I always welcome a good surprise."

Blaine smiled nervously. Tina jumped excitedly from behind the curtain.

"You certainly could give Steve Kazee a run for his money. And he won a Tony for his role in 'Once'. You have a very good vocal range and control. And a lot of guts," Carmen added, and Blaine could swear she winked at him. "Good job."

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, feeling like his legs might give out from underneath him at any moment. "Thank you very much," he said one more time before bowing awkwardly, waving to the band, and running backstage. He ran past Tina, the kid handling the lights, and a couple of kids in the drama club who were also doing auditions. He ran all the way to the boys' bathroom, checked that it was completely empty, and locked himself in one of the stalls. He sat down on the toilet lid and cried with all his might, until his body shook with his sobs. He cried until he was all cried out and he felt like he could breathe normally again.

* * *

"I'm kinda glad you didn't see it. It was a little embarrassing," Blaine sighed, staring into his computer screen, at Kurt's face. It was nighttime, and just as they had agreed, they would Skype after they had both been done with their auditions.

"Was it?" Kurt asked.

Blaine chuckled, no longer feeling horribly mortified by what had happened earlier. In retrospect, it was a lot less painful, thinking about how he had gotten so emotional during one of the most important moments of his life. And he still couldn't believe that it had actually been a good thing. But he still wanted to forget about it as much as he could.

"I really hope no one recorded it," he said, shaking his head. "At least it went well. But, you know, I saw yours last year, so I really wanted you to see mine. But I'm actually glad you didn't."

"But I did."

Blaine froze. "You... what?"

"I saw your audition," Kurt said. In the bad resolution of Skype, he thought he saw Kurt blush.

"Um, but- how?"

"Sam's laptop. He had me on Skype and he sat in the back with the laptop facing the stage and I was able to see the whole thing. Obviously it wasn't HD or anything, but... I saw it."

Blaine's mouth opened and closed a few times. "How... how...?"

"We didn't tell you in case it made you nervous or something."

There was a pause as Blaine processed the information. "I'm gonna kill Sam," he said.

"I thought you said you would've wanted me to watch it," Kurt chuckled. Blaine shook his head.

"I did, but... I'm..." he groaned. "I wasn't expecting that."

Kurt smiled at Blaine. "It's okay. You were really good," he said finally. "I'm so glad you picked that song. It was beautiful."

Blaine let out a long breath. "Thank you." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Now I feel terrible because I don't have a spy in New York who could've Skyped me _your_ audition."

He jumped back away from the computer as something dark and blurry suddenly covered the entire frame and blocked out Kurt. Rachel appeared on screen, poking her head in front of the webcam, so close that only her eyes and nose were visible, and very large. Kurt yelped.

"Rachel! What the-"

"Hi Blaine! I recorded it on video, I am sending you a link right now," she said, holding up her phone. "You're gonna love it. Please like and comment and make sure to follow my Youtube channel."

"Oh hi, Rachel," Blaine said, smiling in relief.

"Have you been eavesdropping this whole time?" Kurt shouted from behind Rachel's giant head.

"Nooooo, I just got here."

"Me too," Brody's voice added from somewhere in the back.

"Ugh, it's you."

"Hey, I have a name."

"Blaine, did you get the link?" Rachel asked.

Blaine ignored their shenanigans long enough to check his phone. "I did. Thanks," he said,

"Let us know what you think afterwards. I'm so proud of both of you, you're totally getting in. Bye!"

Rachel's blurry head disappeared from the screen and was replaced by Kurt again, sitting there shaking his head in disbelief.

"I've got to go," he said sourly. "I have to get some food before Brody eats everything in our fridge."

"Okay," Blaine laughed.

"So... let me know what you think about it."

"Sure, I'll send you a message as soon as I'm done."

"Okay," Kurt muttered. "See you."

"Bye," Blaine said, clicking on the 'end call' button. The screen went black.

He quickly accessed his e-mail and clicked on the link that Rachel had sent. The Youtube video popped up and started playing on its own. The quality was pretty good.

Kurt stood in the middle of a stage, in front of a microphone.

"_This is a song that I've been singing my entire life," _Kurt was saying on the video. _"But just until recently did I really come to understand what it is about."_

He signaled for the pianist to start playing. The opening notes of "Being Alive" already gave Blaine goosebumps.

"_Someone to hold you too close/ Someone to hurt you too deep/ Someone to sit in your chair/ To ruin your sleep..."_

Blaine's face inched closer to the screen, enthralled.

"_Someone to need you too much/ Someone to know you too well/ Someone to pull you up short/ To put you through hell.../ Someone you have to let in/ Someone whose feelings you spare/ Someone who, like it or not/ Will want you to share/ A little, a lot..."_

If it was even possible, Kurt sounded even better this time than he did in his first audition. Blaine realized suddenly that it had been a very long time since he had heard Kurt sing.

"_Someone to crowd you with love/ Someone to force you to care/ Someone to make you come through/ Who'll always be there/ As frightened as you/ Of being alive/ Being alive/ Being alive/ Being alive..."_

Kurt's voice brought tears to Blaine's eyes. Or perhaps it was the song itself. Or both.

"_Somebody, hold me too close/ Somebody, hurt me too deep/ Somebody, sit in my chair/ And ruin my sleep/ And make me aware/ Of being alive/ Being alive..."_

"_Somebody, need me too much/ Somebody, know me too well/ Somebody, pull me up short/ And put me through hell/ And give me support/ For being alive/ Make me alive/ Make me alive/ Make me confused/ Mock me with praise/ Let me be used/ Vary my days/ But alone is alone/ Not alive..."_

Blaine hugged his knees to his chest and cried quietly as he watched enraptured. Kurt's intensity was so raw and palpable. And then Blaine realized, Kurt's cheeks were stained with tears.

"_Somebody, crowd me with love/ Somebody, force me to care/ Somebody, let me come through/ I'll always be there/ As frightened as you/ To help us survive/ Being alive/ Being alive/ Being alive!"_

Blaine sat stock still, chest tight, in complete awe at what he had just witnessed.

The video ended after a voice, most likely Carmen Tibideaux herself, commented on the performance, but the audio was not good enough for him to distinguish what she might have said. But it had to be something good, judging from the way Kurt's face lit up before he thanked her and left the stage. He hadn't seen Kurt smile like that in a long time too.

Blaine wiped his tears on the hem of his t-shirt and wrote a very brief message to Kurt.

_You killed it._

Kurt's reply was almost immediate.

_What an ironic choice of words :)_

Blaine laughed through the last of his tears and hid his phone in his bag, because he suddenly had the weird feeling that maybe Kurt could still see him, and he couldn't hide.

He also had a sudden mental image of Kurt possibly sitting by his phone waiting for Blaine to text him.

Blaine was about to shut off his computer when he got an idea.

* * *

A couple of days later, while he was sitting by himself outside the Lima Bean, he got a call from Kurt.

"Blaine, did you buy me a plane ticket to Lima?"

Blaine winced at the lack of greeting. "Yes," he said sheepishly.

"Why?"

"I know it's kind of forward, but I'd really like it if you... if you would..." he cleared his throat and muttered something in one runaway sentence.

"I didn't catch that," Kurt said.

"If you'd go to prom with me," Blaine repeated louder and clearly. There was a silence on the line.

"Blaine," Kurt started.

"I was going to ask Tina to the prom, but I'd really much rather go with you." Blaine said quickly. "For old time's sake, at least. And as senior class president, I'm organizing the prom. Well, basically Sam is, but I'm supervising. It's going to be great. Plus, I don't know how to buy corsages."

"Blaine, did it occur to you that I still have a job to attend to?"

"I know," Blaine replied. "But it did occur to me to consult with miss Isabelle Wright first, too, and she kinda said she wasn't completely against surrendering you for a couple of days."

Kurt seemed to be about to interject, but Blaine continued before he could. "Besides, I know you said you'd quit if you got into NYADA, and you're totally going to get into NYADA this time, I know it, I can feel it, they can't be that thick."

"Blaine..."

"It's just a suggestion... In case you wanted to come home for a bit, before being completely lost to New York city life once and for all. I know your dad would really like that. Also everyone's coming back for our graduation. We're having a party. You could come to that too."

He heard Kurt sigh loudly. Blaine bit his lip nervously.

"I'm going to wait for you at the airport, okay?" he added quickly.

"What? Blaine-"

"I know it's not easy for you to come here, or if you even want to come here... if you want to come with... with me, but I'll take that chance."

"Blaine, I- I don't know if I can make it."

"Then you'll let me know if you can't. But if I don't hear from you until the day before prom, I'm going to assume that you might come, if you want to come," Blaine rambled on. "So I'll wait for you. And if you do show up, then that'll be it. That will be our Brooklyn Bridge. It'll mean that you have forgiven me, and that we can start over. It's all I want. I've never wanted anything in my life more than I want this. You. I'd really like for you to come."

There was another long silence. Blaine started trembling nervously. Kurt finally spoke up.

"Break a leg at Nationals," he said.

Blaine smiled. They didn't say anything more and hung up.

* * *

New Directions lost at Nationals.

Blaine wasn't sure if he had either been expecting it already, or if he had simply braced himself for the worst outcome. But for him, at least, it didn't come as a great shock.

The new kids were devastated. The others, meanwhile, felt like this time around, they were able to appreciate how hard they had worked and how well they had done, in spite of their rocky start to the year. They were pretty happy with their performance. Other glee clubs had simply done better.

The train ride back from Indianapolis gave Blaine a sense of calmness. Everyone was pretty quiet. For his part, Blaine stared out the window and listened to music in his iPod; perhaps the others sensed he didn't want to talk, that he'd much rather be alone with his own thoughts.

It was during that solitude, as he watched the landscape change, that Blaine realized that he might be okay after all. No matter what happened in the next week, he was pretty sure he'd be okay. He'd find a way to be.

* * *

Just like they had agreed, like in the film, they wouldn't talk. So Kurt didn't call. But Rachel did.

"We're very sorry you didn't win," she said earnestly. Blaine sat in his desk chair.

"It's okay, it could've been worse," he said dismissively. "Is he... is he coming?"

She sighed loudly. "I don't know, honey. He hasn't said anything about that. Or much about anything, in fact. He's been pretty quiet."

"I see."

"He's been thinking a lot. I'm sure he can't talk to anyone right now. And I don't want to push him."

Blaine rolled his eyes. Of all the times Rachel could choose not to be her intensely obnoxious self, this had to be one of them. "Okay," he said.

"Blaine? I know it's pretty pointless for me to say it, but... don't think too much about it."

"It's okay, Rachel. You don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried, I'm just... concerned. I hope you won't let it get to you, you know... the anticipation?"

"I'll be calm."

"Okay."

"Just... tell him that..." He took a deep breath. "That I'll be okay."

"I will."

* * *

Blaine was anything but calm when he woke up on Friday. As soon as he opened his eyes, he started counting down the hours until the flight from New York City arrived, bringing Kurt. Or not.

The day felt like it would stretch on forever. He did his best to focus in class. He feigned interest when people discussed their Prom outfits. He attempted to be just as cheerful as every other senior.

He pretended to be cool and collected, when in reality he was trying not to fall apart.

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?" he looked up at Tina and Sam; he hadn't even noticed them coming in. He'd been sitting in the choir room by himself, with the excuse of feeling nostalgic. He was actually trying to stay distracted.

"Are you gonna be okay today?" Tina asked.

"I'll be fine," Blaine nodded. "I hope."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Sam asked. Blaine waved a hand dismissively.

"No, come on, you don't have to-"

"Just in case," Tina said. Blaine stared at her.

"In case of what?"

"In case of... well, you know..."

"We'll stay in the car," Sam added quickly, before Tina could get flustered. "Brittany really wants to come along too. She made a banner and everything. For Kurt."

Blaine shook his head. "Thanks, guys, but I'm pretty sure this is something I have to do on my own. No matter what happens," he said. "I'll be fine," he added when they looked doubtfully at him.

They waved goodbye to him and left. He suddenly wished they would come back.

* * *

He got to the airport really early. He was thirsty and a little nauseous, but he stood right by the arrivals gate, behind the security line, and didn't dare move, eyes glued to the screen that updated the status of the flights coming in.

The crowd around the gate slowly swelled. People arriving from different parts of the country greeted family members, friends, colleagues, and so on. And then the crowd would thin, and swell again, and Blaine watched on.

The flight from New York city was on time. He started a mental countdown.

This was it. This was _it_.

Every minute that passed made him feel worse. His mind pitched automatic responses to try to ease him: _it's the weekend, there are a lot of people flying in; getting off the plane always seems to take forever; baggage claim is such a hassle..._

He felt like such a movie clichè; he kept thinking about the Brooklyn Bridge, about Miranda and Steve, about Harry and Sally, and as much as the little voice in the back of his mind, which sounded strangely like Dr. Franco and Rachel and Sam and Cooper all at the same time, kept telling him that life wasn't like a movie, he only felt his heart beat faster whenever the doors opened and someone walked out.

He suddenly spotted Kurt coming out the doors, wheeling along a small red suitcase. He was wearing Blaine's black sweater again, and he looked absolutely breathtaking. Blaine blinked and shook his head very lightly; he was so anxious that he was starting to see things.

But Kurt spotted him and stopped, and smiled.

He came. He actually came.

Blaine started crying. He looked down, and couldn't look up as Kurt approached him slowly and stood in front of him and pulled him into a hug. Blaine cried into his shoulder, his arms wrapping around Kurt's waist and laughing feebly in between sobs. He felt the warmth of Kurt's body shaking against his as he laughed lightly too.

"Are you sure?" he finally asked, voice watery. Kurt's started happy-crying too and nodded vigorously.

"Yes, I'm sure. I wouldn't put my fabulous job at Vogue on hold and fly back to Lima, Ohio if I weren't." He grabbed one of Blaine's and and held it firmly between his own. "I had a lot of time to think. I've done nothing but think. So I stopped. I stopped thinking so goddamn much, and I realized that I felt like I was missing something very important."

"Blaine, there is a moment..." he started, and Blaine started laughing, "when you say to yourself, that when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Blaine stared at him, his eyes still wide with disbelief. "I don't think I was emotionally prepared for this," he blubbered, making Kurt laugh.

"Me neither," he shrugged. "I missed you like crazy."

Without so much as a single care for who in small-minded Central Ohio might be watching, Kurt leaned in to kiss him. Blaine's eyes fluttered close, breathing deeply through his nose, lips tingling, fingers intertwining. It was short and sweet, but it was everything. This was everything. Kurt pulled back slightly, but they kept their eyes closed, foreheads touching. It felt as if it were just the two of them in that place.

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt whispered. Blaine smiled.

"I love you so much, Kurt," he said breathlessly.

A voice over the PA system brought them out of their haze.

"Come on," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's suitcase. "You must be tired."

"I could do with some lying around and just cuddling," Kurt nodded, smiling, as they walked toward the exit with their arms around each other.

* * *

_After rereading for the umpteenth time, I'm not sure I'm entirely happy, but I'm pretty happy. This makes me very satisfied. Ah, how I love my Klaine..._

_Stick around for the epilogue. It's short and sweet, I promise. There's prom and graduation and NYADA and sexy times! I need to get to the sexy times. I need them now._

_Also, prom in my fic comes after Nationals, because hey! I don't know, maybe that was the schedule, or maybe Blaine and Sam have been so busy with Nationals that they forgot about Prom altogether. I don't know... I get the feeling ND isn't getting anywhere near Nationals this season. Too much going on with the seniors. _

_Also, how excited am I for Come What May tomorrow? I have food and drinks ready and a watch party and EVERYTHING, that's how much!_

_Thank you for reading! Happy Glee-day!_

_-Valentina_


	8. Epilogue

_Aaaah vacations! First order of business: finish this story. So I can move on to others. I have a pile I already started. Must get on with it._

_Sorry this took so long, but I've been sooooo busy. Ah, the life of a procrastinator. But I've finally gotten a much deserved break, and it's time to update for the last time. Thank you if you have stuck with this story since the beginning, it's been very therapeutic to write, and let's hope the Powers that Be at Glee give us a prompt Klaine reconciliation for real. Fanfiction can only do so much to keep me somewhat sane regarding this matter. :(_

_Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and FOX._

* * *

**Above The Wreckage**

by HappyValentina

* * *

**Epilogue**

Blaine woke up startled from a weird dream. For a moment he felt really disoriented. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light and he soon recognized the ceiling in his own room.

It was still early, but the sun was already up, judging from the faint shine coming in through the edges of the curtains. He looked down at his clothes and remembered. Prom night. He was still wearing the trousers and white shirt of his tux, his jacket and bow tie crumpled somewhere at his feet.

He glanced next to him. Kurt was fast asleep, also still wearing his shirt and trousers. His pearly white bow tie was undone around his neck. Blaine smiled, settling back down to watch Kurt sleep.

Prom had been awesome, at least by his standards. As vice-president, Sam had planned the whole thing on his own with the prom committee, and pulled it off to amazing effect. The theme was "The Beatles": there were Yellow Submarine-style decorations, the photo booth was a British telephone booth, and Sam, Artie, Jake and Ryder were dressed like Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band; there was even a pedestrian crossing at the entrance, and people walking in single file trying to emulate the iconic Abbey Road cover for the official photographer. Everything was amazing.

Brittany and Sam won Prom Queen and King, and they danced together adorably to the coronation song, sung by Marley and Unique. Blaine felt sorry that he had been so caught up on his issues, he had forgotten that his friends had been on the running for prom royalty, and had done nothing to help them with their campaign. But they won, and that was all that mattered. They certainly didn't seem to care.

Late in the evening, when the party was almost wrapping up, the DJ suddenly played Alicia Keys's raw vocal version of "Blackbird", a lovely mellow piano cover, much to Blaine's delight. And much to his surprise, Kurt stood up with a smile and asked him to dance. Artie and Sugar, who had been at the table with them, basically had to shove him toward Kurt, seeing as his legs didn't seem to cooperate.

Kurt took Blaine's hand and led him onto the dance floor. It felt like the very first time they danced together, back when Blaine was there to ask Kurt to dance in front of the entire school; back when they were starting to fall in love. The same jittery excitement, the same poignancy.

This was like falling in love all over again.

* * *

After prom, practically all of McKinley ended up in Breadstix, the only place that was still open. Blaine and Kurt found themselves in a cramped booth with old New Directions, laughing and sharing stories. It was the first time in months and months, that Blaine felt almost normal again. Like he could almost put everything behind him. Almost, but not completely.

He has no idea how long he would be on edge, slightly extra careful around Kurt, how long he'd be compensating, but he would continue to try.

Kurt forgave him; but he still had to forgive himself.

* * *

Blaine had been so tired that he vaguely remembered them getting home. He laid there, head propped up on an elbow, watching Kurt's face. How he had missed that face.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table. Blaine picked it up quickly, afraid it would wake up Kurt.

_Sooooooo how was prom?_

Blaine rolled his eyes at the tacit sing-song tone in Cooper's text message.

_It was perfect._

_O_o And how is Kurt?_

_He's good. _

_But did you guys, you know, "get to know each other again" last night? *__wink wink*_

He blushed horribly.

_No, Coop! Come on! Give me a break. I'm already a huge mess as it is. One step at a time._

_Wait, you're telling me that he came back with you after prom, to your house, and you guys slept in the same bed, and you didn't do ANYTHING?_

Blaine stopped and looked around apprehensively.

_Wait, where are you? How did you know he's here?_

_AHA! So you admit it! _

Blaine mentally kicked himself.

_What, you thought I was hiding in your closet or something? I'm not that sneaky. But it's good to know that you're still so sweetly innocent and gullible. _

Blaine huffed and calmed himself.

_Well, we kissed._

_Oh did you?_

_Yeah... a lot. :)_

_And then you just... fell asleep... :/_

Blaine sighed in frustration.

_Look, right now I simply can't believe my luck. He's sleeping right next to me, when just a day ago I was still wondering if I had managed to lose my soulmate forever in the stupidest, most pathetic way possible. So I don't care how long it takes before we can be that intimate again, all I know is that I love him and last night was the best night of my life, and I woke up terrified thinking that I had just imagined the whole thing. So could you please take it easy on me? Is that asking for too much?_

Blaine finished typing furiously and almost wanted to fling the phone away, chuck it into a corner or something, so he could go back to watching Kurt, but he wouldn't really do that. Besides, the noise would probably wake Kurt up.

There was a long pause before Cooper's reply came in.

_B, I was only joking. Please stop being such a mess. _

_I'm sorry. I'm hungry and I really want to take Kurt out for breakfast or something. I'm kind of torn between letting him sleep and shaking him awake so I can talk to him._

_That is so freaking cute, I think I'm having a stroke from all the cute._

Blaine chuckled quietly and shook his head again.

_I still can't believe you missed out on mandatory post-Prom sex._

_I hate you. _

_No, you don't. You love me and you miss me, and you wish I were there right now to high-five you and congratulate you on getting your shit together and getting your soulmate back._

_Negative on the latter... but the first part is true._

_I love you too. And Blaine?_

Blaine waited for the dreaded parting sexual innuendo that was sure to come.

_I'm really happy for you, little brother. :)_

He smiled to himself and replied with a simple smiley face, before putting the phone back on the bedside table. He accidentally knocked over a tower of DVDs, and they tumbled to the floor noisily.

Blaine cringed as he felt Kurt stir next to him, and turned guiltily toward him. Kurt buried his face in the pillow and stretched like a cat before opening his eyes.

"Hey," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Hi. Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm-hmm," Kurt mumbled. "I could stay in bed all day, though."

Blaine laughed. "I think we'd get hungry."

"Hah, yeah..."

Blaine laid back down on the bed again with a yawn and a stretch, and Kurt scooted toward him, close enough to tuck himself into his arms, and bury his face into the crook of Blaine's shoulder. Blaine was so taken aback by the gesture that he held his breath involuntarily.

"Let's just stay here for a bit, just like this," Kurt whispered against his neck, tickling him.

"Okay," Blaine whispered back.

The only sound for a moment was the sound of their breathing, almost synchronized. The air on a lazy sunday morning of early summer was still and quiet, as it should be, until it was interrupted by Blaine's stomach growling in protest. He jerked away. Kurt laughed breathily into Blaine's shirt.

"Okay, sorry, that was my stomach," Blaine said. Kurt propped himself up on an elbow.

"Yeah, I'm kinda hungry too." He made a face. "Ugh, but I wanted to stay here..."

"Do you want to go get some breakfast? I know the bagels in the Lima Bean are nothing compared to the bagels anywhere in New York, but they will be just coming out of the oven," Blaine said with a smirk. "And then we can come back here and watch movies or something...maybe...?"

"Sounds perfect," Kurt nodded.

They both sat there, staring at each other without really motioning to get going. Blaine took a deep breath and smiled.

"I don't know about you, but... I had a great time last night. Thank you so much for being my date."

Kurt beamed at him. "Always," he said, pecking him on the lips.

* * *

On Wednesday, Blaine had his final Chemistry exam, possibly his toughest subject, thought he was pretty confident he'd get a decent grade. But none of it mattered anymore.

He had to rush to Kurt's house as soon as he could get out of school. Sam met him in the parking lot.

"Dude, I got a B- in History! I didn't cheat, I swear! It was like an adrenaline rush!"

"That's great, Sam. Get in the freaking car!"

They made it to the Hummel residence in record time, Sam looking a little worse for wear and saying that it was pointless to graduate with a somewhat decent GPA if Blaine managed to kill him just before graduation. Blaine ignored him and sprinted to the door.

"What took you so long!" Kurt yelled, flinging the door open and yanking him inside. Sam rolled his eyes at them.

"I swear I'm going to throw up any second, this is the worst kind of suspense there is," Kurt said, leading Blaine quickly into the kitchen, Sam following them.

"I know. I could barely focus on the last exam," Blaine said.

"What exactly is going on?" Finn asked as soon as he came into the kitchen. "Is this about your NYADA letter? You haven't opened it yet?" he asked Kurt.

"No," Kurt answered with a pained expression.

"But they sent that to you in New York, you got it before you came here. You're telling me you've had it this whole time and you haven't opened it?"

"He was waiting for me to get mine. We wanted to do it together," Blaine said, biting his lip as he fished his letter out of his bag.

"I swear my patience has never been tested so thoroughly," Kurt said, taking his of his pants pocket.

"Yeah? Well, neither has ours," Burt huffed jokingly from his seat at the table. "He's been baking all day to keep busy, and then hounding me about not eating any of it."

"Oh right! Blaine, would you like some soufflé? Or maybe some strawberry-vanilla cupcakes? There's plenty of both," Carole offered cheerfully.

"No, thanks, my stomach is doing somersaults right now," Blaine shook his head.

"Just open them, then," Sam said, sipping from a can of orange soda.

Blaine and Kurt looked hopefully at each other before they simultaneously tore the envelopes open.

"I can't do this! You do it! Read mine!" Kurt shouted, shoving his letter at Blaine.

"Me? I can't read yours, I can't even read my own!"

"JUST DO IT ALREADY!" Finn yelled in exasperation.

The boys froze, glanced at each other, and quickly pushed the letters at Finn. "You do it. Please?"

Finn sighed tiredly. "Fine," he said. Sam snatched one of the letters and pulled it out of the envelope, and Finn reluctantly did the same with the other. Blaine and Kurt held their breaths, gripping each other's hands so tight their fingers were getting numb, as they watched the other two boys read their respective letters with thoughtful and undecipherable expressions, trade letters and read through as well. They put the letters in their respective envelopes, nodded at each other, and looked at the expectant boys.

"YOU BOTH GOT IN!" Finn and Sam shouted in unison, jumping up from their stools, their faces splitting into huge smiles. Kurt's eyes were as big as tennis balls. Blaine felt a rush of blood to his head.

Everyone was suddenly shouting excitedly. Burt had rushed over and wrapped both his son and Blaine in a bear hug. Sam hugged Blaine and patted him on the back. Finn hugged his brother and ruffled his hair annoyingly. Carole kissed them both on the cheeks and started crying with joy.

Blaine was still so shocked that he could barely respond. As Burt and Carole sprinted around the kitchen fetching the champagne and the flute glasses, and Sam and Finn were suddenly distracted shoving cupcakes into their mouths, he turned to Kurt for confirmation, to make sure that he wasn't imagining things. This was what they always wanted. And it suddenly seemed too good to be true.

"We're... we're really going? Both of us?"

Kurt laughed, cheeks flushed, and nodded. "I told you, you were great."

Blaine's eyes misted over and he shook his head slowly. Kurt turned to him fully and kissed him lightly, before pulling him into an embrace.

"Just like we wanted. It's everything we wanted," he whispered in his ear.

Blaine smiled, just as a tear escaped his eye, and he hugged Kurt back tightly. Carole came over with glasses of champagne, and Burt cleared his throat proudly to make a toast.

"To Kurt and Blaine," he started, once everyone had their glasses. "Two brilliant young men with bright futures ahead. Hard work and resolve have gotten you this far, so I wish you both the best. I hope you continue to work as hard as you can to accomplish everything."

"Cheers!"

Blaine blushed slightly at the beaming faces watching them, and they all clinked their glasses noisily and sipped the champagne. Burt held up a finger suddenly.

"And I hope you continue to be by each other's side every step of the way," he added as an afterthought, suddenly grinning like a cheshire cat. "Because seriously, who are you guys kidding? I'll be doing this again soon enough at your wedding. I'll see you there!"

Carole, Finn and Sam laughed, toasting again. Kurt and Blaine blushed spectacularly, but neither of them said anything. The way Kurt giggled embarrassed and glanced at him, still beet red, pretty much indicated they were both thinking the same: that Burt Hummel had hit the nail right in the head.

* * *

"So, do you think I should keep coming during the summer?"

Dr. Franco looked up from her cup of tea and stared curiously at Blaine.

In spite of having a ton of studying to do, Blaine still went to his appointment with Dr. Franco, to tell her about his NYADA acceptance. She hugged him and congratulated him profusely and lamented that she didn't have a bottle of sparkling cider to toast him.

It was the last appointment before Blaine's graduation, which was on Saturday. Blaine was suddenly unsure how his appointments would work now that he'd be out of school, and now that he had a lot of stuff to do before leaving Lima behind.

"Why would you? Aren't you moving to New York?" Dr. Franco asked. Blaine shrugged.

"I just thought... I don't know. I thought maybe I should. Just in case."

"In case of what?" she put her cup down and looked serious. "Blaine, do you feel like you haven't resolved any of your issues?"

He drew a blank. "Um... well, no."

"Do you need to adjust your medication or have something else prescribed?"

"No..."

"Are you even still taking the anti-depressants?"

Blaine froze. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken the pills. Maybe some time before his NYADA audition? Or before Nationals? After Mr. Schue's wedding? He really had no idea.

"Um... no."

Dr. Franco smiled knowingly. "Then I'm pretty sure you don't need my help anymore. You know, obviously, you can still contact me if you need to. I'm always available. But I think you're finally taking notice of the tremendous progress that you've had." She shrugged. "The rest is pretty much up to you."

Blaine blinked, a little confused.

"So... it's like... just like that?"

Dr. Franco sat beside him, and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Blaine, remember one of the first things I explained to you when you first came to see me? I said it again when you brought Kurt with you."

Blaine nodded.

"Sometimes all we need is someone to listen, and then maybe we can come by the answers on our own." She grinned again. "And you did. You suddenly knew what you wanted. No one had to tell you. You moved on from your mistakes, and you gave yourself another chance."

Blaine looked down at their hands and shook his head. "I don't know when I'm going to be able to forgive myself, though, for everything that happened," he said glumly. "I haven't forgiven myself for the pain I caused Kurt, and myself."

"Yes, you have. You don't know you have, but... it's not something that just happens suddenly. It's a process, and it started when you sought help."

Blaine felt an overwhelming mixture of sadness and relief and joy, and his eyes started welling up. Dr. Franco smiled and pulled him into a hug.

"No more tears, okay? You deserve all the good things that are coming your way," she said, embracing him tightly. He hugged her back, the lump in his throat not allowing him to respond, so he just nodded.

She let go of him and squeezed his hand. "I'm very proud of you and very happy for you, Blaine."

He nodded again, turning red. She sighed.

"Okay, so the hour is up, and I wanted to let you know something, but I don't want you to think that this might be the real reason why I don't want you coming around during the summer."

She took a deep breath.

"I'm getting married in August."

Blaine's eyes widened. "You are?!"

"I am. We finally set the date."

"Oh my god, congratulations!" he exclaimed. She beamed.

"Thank you. Ugh, I have so much planning to do, I'm going to be so busy, so I'm taking a short leave of absence. That's why I won't be here." She shook her head. "Besides, you'll soon be in New York, living out your amazing new life. And you will have long forgotten about me."

Blaine shook his head. "Nina, I don't think that's possible."

"I mean, I hope that you will be too busy with your amazing life to remember me." She winked. "I am going to miss you though."

Blaine suddenly had a strange nostalgic feeling, as if Nina Franco was a sort of _Nanny McPhee. "When you want me, but no longer need me, then I have to go."_

He hugged Dr. Franco again, tighter than ever.

"Thank you for everything," he whispered.

"It's been a pleasure."

* * *

Blaine stood backstage in the auditorium, toying frantically with the tassel of his cap, minutes prior to the graduation ceremony. He was much more nervous than he would've expected to be, and he started feeling quite hot under the McKinley-red gown.

"Dude, are you okay? You look like you might throw up," Sam asked, appearing behind him. He was decked in the red cap and gown as well, a pair of black Chuck Taylors peeking under the hem.

"I might, but I'll try to control it during the ceremony," Blaine replied, not even half-joking. He was a little nauseated, now that he thought about it.

"Relax, man, you're going to be great. You're the senior class president, I'm vice-president, we'll make an awesome entrance. We're gonna rock this," Sam assured him, squeezing his shoulders.

"Hey, look, your family's here," Blaine pointed out, smiling and feeling a little better. Mr and Mrs Evans, and Stevie and Stacy, took their seats near the front, beside Tina's parents. Marley and her mom were on the front row with Jake and his mom, next to Artie's parents.

"Oh my mom brought Lord Tubbington!" Brittany exclaimed, pointing at a blonde lady in the very back trying to conceal a kennel under a seat, but having a lot of trouble because it was visibly heavy. "He promised he'd come, and he did!"

Blaine kept seeing familiar faces turning up among the sea of parents. Santana and Quinn had just walked in, arms linked; Puck made his way to Jake. Mercedes and Mike were having an animated conversation at the far end of the second row, next to Sugar's parents.

Finally, Blaine spotted his parents coming in, right behind Lauren Zizes's family. And they were chatting to Kurt's parents. Burt and Carole had both come, much to Blaine's surprise and delight. Behind them, Kurt, Finn and Rachel were all talking distractedly. Blaine smiled when he saw Kurt. He felt his chest flutter, like a cage full of butterflies, watching them all take up half of the third row.

Kurt suddenly looked at the stage, and caught his eye. Blaine waved at him, and Kurt waved back. "What, you actually expected him not to come or something?" Sam asked, catching the look on Blaine's face.

Kurt suddenly looked away when someone beside him tapped him on the shoulder, his face lighting up. Blaine's eyes were wide as golfballs, watching as Cooper sat down beside Kurt and hugged him.

"No, but I did not expect my brother," Blaine said, waving again, confused. Cooper winked at him and started chatting with Kurt.

"Are you okay? Don't cry on me, man. It's almost starting, you don't want to be crying," Sam said. Blaine shook his head.

"No, no, I'm fine. It's just... it's all of it."

"What?"

"Just... this. You guys, and graduation. And my family. It's _all_ here."

"Yes, we're all here. Where else would we be?" Sam smirked, patting Blaine on the shoulder. Blaine smiled back, feeling a little flushed and nervous still, but a little less nauseated.

He stood behind Artie just as Principal Figgins walked onstage and started addressing the audience, and took a deep breath.

* * *

Blaine was riding the biggest high for the rest of the night, especially when he heard his name called and Principal Figgins handed him his diploma; he had instinctively looked out at the crowd as he flipped his tassel to the other side, and caught sight of his family, his _entire family_, clapping and whistling and cheering him loudly on their feet. He met Kurt's eyes, which were filled with tears. Blaine mouthed 'I love you' before his own eyes started brimming as well. Luckily he had made it across the stage before his vision could get so blurry he couldn't see where he was going, and luckily Tina had an extra tissue for him.

After the seniors tossed their caps in the air, when the ceremony was well over, and after hugging and kissing everyone, Blaine's parents announced a celebratory dinner. But before they could extend the offer to the Hummel clan, Cooper intervened.

"I got this, little bro," he said with a wink, hugging Blaine tightly. He quickly pulled his parents aside, and Blaine was able to catch part of the whispered conversation; Cooper very adeptly made up a story about Blaine's Glee club having a small party planned, and that maybe they should postpone the dinner and make it a lunch for the next day perhaps, but the three of them should totally go out for a bite and catch up on Cooper's many misadventures, and the Hummels were definitively welcome to join them.

"What party?" Finn had then asked Kurt and Blaine quietly, dumbfounded. Kurt glared at him.

"Uh, we should go get some dinner first, eh, Finn? Come on, I'm starving!" Rachel said quickly, pulling Finn along. She winked at the two of them before leaving.

Blaine was so nervous as he got into his car, Kurt on the passenger seat, that he once again felt like he might upchuck. Surely it was too soon to even think about it. _Surely_.

"Ummm, do you want to go get some dinner too?" he asked hoarsely.

Kurt chuckled, seeming just as nervous, and thought for a moment.

"I think we can do that later," he said, scooting closer. "_After_."

Blaine nodded in agreement, throat dry, as he watched Kurt inching closer, heavy-lidded gaze fixed upon Blaine's lips.

"Uh, sure, okay," Blaine stammered, his heart going a million miles per hour. "Er, after we..."

Kurt deadpanned, making Blaine cringe.

"How do I put this simply? We're starting over, it's been a long time, and Cooper just improvised a scheme so we could have your house to ourselves. I think we should have sex right now, before we go out of our minds."

Blaine had no idea how he even managed to drive properly, considering he had to drive with Kurt's hand on his leg the whole way, his heart pounding at the base of his throat. They actually got to Blaine's empty house in a rush, stumbling about in a mess of limbs and kisses, and Blaine had never loved Cooper more for all his sneaky, enabling ways.

They rushed to Blaine's bedroom, barely remembering to lock the door, and struggling hilariously to get each other out of their clothes. By then, he was a little less tense, and felt as giddy and nervous and clumsy as he did the first time they'd had sex.

Everything that had happened since November, everything that made him feel lost and sad and inadequate, vanished like a puff of smoke the moment his hands gripped Kurt's bare hips, the instant they became a tangle of arms and legs, the second that he felt the desperate pull of Kurt's lips on his, and the deep rhythmic moaning reverberating in his throat as if it were his own. His mind was a haze of want and need and longing, and he had never felt his entire skin tingle so much all at once. His chest felt like it might burst at any moment.

It was everything that Blaine had expected and more, a lot like their first time together. It was a little messy and wonderful and awkward and amazing. It was perfect.

Sometime past midnight, Blaine was still staring blearily at the ceiling. The drapes had been left open, and the streetlamp cast shadows from the trees and they danced across the ceiling and the walls. Blaine watched them, hypnotized, and just breathed deeply. His arm had gone numb from where it was cradling Kurt's head, but he couldn't care less.

He was so scared of waking up and finding that it had all been just a dream, that he refused to sleep at all, even though his eyelids were drooping heavily.

Kurt stirred awake, fingers grazing the side of Blaine's bare ribs, tickling him.

"Hey," Blaine greeted. Kurt blinked a few times and smiled, scooting up so that their noises touched.

"Hey," he replied, placing a kiss on the corner of Blaine's mouth.

"How are you?"

"Fantastic," Kurt said sleepily, reaching for Blaine's free hand. "You?"

Blaine's throat tightened, watching Kurt's every move.

"I'm just really, really happy right now," he whispered, voice choking a little with emotion.

Kurt smiled and kissed Blaine again. And again and again.

* * *

"Ugh, we're gonna have to buy more coat-hangers," Kurt said, hands on hips and nose scrunched.

Blaine looked up from the last of his pajama pants that he had folded and placed neatly on top of the pile. He carried it to the dresser and put it in the drawer that Kurt had cleared for his clothes.

_His_ drawer. On _their_ dresser. In _their_ apartment. In _New York_.

He closed the drawer and felt the tension ebbing away. He hated packing and he hated unpacking, but it had never been as nerve-wrecking and exciting as this time.

It was late afternoon in August, and it was hot, really hot outside, but inside the brick-walled apartment, the temperature was just right, just hazy enough. With the right set of windows open, a lovely cooling breeze swept into the apartment.

He had only been there less than two hours, but this place already felt like home. Maybe it was the lighting, or the smells that were already embedded in his mind. But most likely, it was the sight of Kurt walking around on his socks, showing him where to put his things in the bathroom and making tea and calling his dad to let him know that he and Blaine had arrived safely; it was the sight of Kurt leaning on the kitchen counter making a list of all the groceries they had to buy; it was the two of them working together to make room in Kurt's closet and Kurt's dresser for Blaine's stuff, and unpacking Blaine's stuff slowly while listening to music.

"Can I borrow this again? Not right now obviously, but for when it gets cold," Kurt said, holding out the black sweater that he had kept over the winter. Blaine shrugged and nodded; he was pretty certain that he had the dopiest grin on his face, but he couldn't care.

Kurt pouted at the few clothes still inside Blaine's suitcase, getting more and more wrinkly.

"I swear I thought I had enough. I'll have to ask Rachel if she's got any that she's not using. I mean, I could check for myself, but I'm actually afraid of her catching me going through her closet. I don't want to lose a finger."

Blaine laughed. "You know she's all the way in Lima until tomorrow, right?"

"Whatever. I'd still rather not. She'll know I've been through her stuff. Just like I'd know if she went through mine."

"I'll just put it on the list of things I still need. I need to buy shampoo too. And we have to go grocery shopping later, anyway."

"Or maybe we should wait for Rachel to go shopping," Kurt said, jumping onto the bed and sitting cross-legged on top.

"But she gets here tomorrow," Blaine made a face. "I don't know about you, but I can't survive on tea until tomorrow."

"We can order takeout, silly," Kurt said, leaning back on his hands and smiling. "And tomorrow morning we should definitively go have breakfast at Starbucks, it's mandatory."

"Okay," Blaine said, looking around. "Well, I should jot down the stuff that I need to buy, and check-"

"Blaine."

Blaine glanced at Kurt, who simply wiggled a finger at him, beckoning him over. Blaine didn't move an inch, breath caught in his throat, and Kurt huffed.

"Could you just relax for a bit? I know the flight wasn't that long, but... aren't you a little bit tired? I am. So could you come here and just rest for a while? I think you need it. You haven't slept in three days, I know it. You never sleep well before a trip, let alone a move." He licked his lips. "Also, we have established that Rachel won't be here until tomorrow, so... we should probably take advantage of that."

Blaine swallowed hard and approached the bed, climbing slowly. Kurt scooted up and lay against the pillows, holding his arms out so that Blaine would fit into his embrace.

"Welcome home," Kurt whispered, kissing Blaine's forehead.

Blaine smiled and wrapped his arms around Kurt's torso and buried his face in his chest and inhaled Kurt's scent deeply. He finally felt at home.

* * *

_That was the cheesiest thing I've ever written, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Sorry, I couldn't resist. _

_Sooo, in case anyone's interested, I'm currently working on a fic called "Salt and Pepper Shakers" (working title), which, if you look up on which occasion it's traditional to give those things as a gift, you'll know what the fic is about :) I started working on it long before __The Break Up even happened, before the start of the season, in fact, considering I even had Rory in it, and none of the newbies. _

_In light of what's happened during the season, I'm going to adjust some of it, and post is as soon as possible. _

_Again, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed my little redemption fic, and let's keep the prayer circle going for a reconciliation. Us Klainers have got to stick together._

_-Valentina._


End file.
